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THE

DUBLIN REVIEW.

f

BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO., EDINBURGH
CHANDOS STREET, LONDON

THE

DUBLIN REVIEW.

THIRD SERIES.

VOL. VI

JULY— OCTOBER.

MDCCCLXXXI.

LONDON: BURNS & OATES.

DUBLIN : M. H. GILL & SON.

BALTIMOEE; KELLY, PIET & CO.

18SL

THE

DUBLIN REVIEW.

JULY, 1881.

Art. I.— the KELIGIOUS PRESS.

The Newspaper Press Directory. Thirty-sixth Annual
Issue. London : C. Mitchell & Co. 1881.

A WRITER in the " Saturday Review/' a few weeks ago,
delivered himself concerning newspapers in general, in
terms which drew down upon his devoted head the fiercest
wrath of the whole journalistic world. " Excessive newspaper
reading, ■'' he said, ^^ is a sure destroyer of mental health. Its
effect is to corrupt the judgment, to weaken the sense of mental
discrimination, to discourage intellectual initiative, and gene-
rally to deaden the mental powers by substituting a habit of
mechanical for a habit of intelligent reading. A very little
yielding to this disposition,^' he goes on, " will produce, even in
cultivated men, a habit which may almost be said to be worse
from an intellectual point of view than the habit of not reading
at all." Some such reflection as this must necessarily strike every
thoughtful man, as he turns over the pages of the volume the title
of which we have placed at the head of this article. Two hundred
and thirty-six closely printed pages of imperial 8vo, wholly
devoted to particulars concerning the newspapers of the United
Kingdom, afford a sufficiently striking evidence of the enormous
interests involved in the newspaper press, and testify to the
readiness of the people of this country to absorb a practically
unlimited quantity of literature of this description. That this is
an altogether healthy state of things, and a sign of the growing
intelligence of the nation, is certainly open to question. The
weary speakers who return thanks for the toast of " The Press,"
at the fag end of municipal and other banquets, of course rejoice
over it, and triumphantly point to the enterprise, and industry,
and cultivated public feeling of which it is the sign. Yet there
VOL. VI. —NO. I. [Third Series.] b

a The Religious Press.

are some amongst us who are sufficiently lieretical to think that
the " Saturday" Reviewer did not go quite far enough in his
condemnation of excessive newspaper reading, and who trace to
it no small part of that decay of patriotism, of public spirit, and
of private morality, as well as of that increasing frivolity and
want of serious aim in life which are so unhappily characteristic
of the present day. A people who, like the Athenians of old,
spend their lives '' either in telling or hearing some new thing ''
— in other words, in gossiping — are not likely to be animated b}^
very high aims, or guided by any very intelligent standard. And
to the great mass of newspaper readers their favourite literature
is only another form of gossip. Perhaps one in ten may read the
leading articles, and study the telegrams with intelligence,
but the rest look only at those portions of the paper which
contain what may be most accurately described as gossip — and
sometimes as gossip of the worst kind; police reports, reports of
proceedings in the law courts — and especially those of the Court
in which Sir James Hannen daily puts asunder those whom God
is supposed to have joined — accidents and offences, and all the
little trivial scraps of news which are forgotten as soon as read,
and which have not the slightest interest for, and do not in the
smallest degree concern any save the actors in the events recorded.
But the matter has an even graver side than this. On all
sides it is lamented, and especially in Protestant communities,
that faith appears to be decaying. Nor can there be much doubt
that outside the pale of the Catholic Church religion is becoming
year by year a less potent influence. The outward forms remain
but the soul has departed. In the Church of England fashion
appears to be the prevailing power A hundred years ago the
fashion was what is now called "high and dry^^ Churchmanship.
The clergy were simply country gentlemen, who on Sundays put
on a surplice, and read prayers and a sermon ; whilst on week-
days they farmed, hunted, shot, fished, and took their part in
county business like any other laymen. Then followed the wave
of Evangelical reaction, when the great mass of the clergy
did their best to inspire their people with aspirations after
holiness by the light of a curiously narrow and mistaken
creed. It was natural that a recoil should follow, and that the
excessive individualism, which is the leading characteristic of the
so-called Evangelical party, should lead the more thoughtful
amongst them to endeavour to realize the essentially corporate
character of the Christianity they professed. The result was the
publication of *^ Tracts for the Times,^^ with the inevitable sequel
— the submission to the Church of some of the greatest
intellects in the Anglican body. As Lord Beaconsfield has said,
that secession inflicted a blow upon the Church of England

The Religious Press. 3

beneath which she yet reels. It certainly had the effect of
intensifying the differences which notoriously exist amongst the
members of that very miscellaneous body. The after effects of the
"Tracts'' have been peculiar. Those who accept their teaching
carefully refrain, save in very rare instances, from carrying it to
its logical consequences, while those who reject it drift year by
year farther from what it is the fashion to call " the old Evan-
gelical standards/' and now form what they are pleased to
describe as the " Broad Church party '' — a sect, the principal
article of whose creed seems to be the absurdity of having a
creed at all, and whose Christianity is of so remarkable a type as
wholly to abandon the supernatural element in it. All these
varying parties have their organs in the press, as have also the
multitude of the sects into which Protestantism outside the
Church of England is divided ; and their wranglings and bitter-
ness do not, certainly, afford the impartial looker-on a very
exalted idea of the effect of such religious teaching as is supplied
from the pulpits of the Establishment and of the various dis-
senting bodies. No one, in fact, can make a study of these
so-called "religious'' newspapers, without arriving at a tolerably
definite opinion that the tendency towards unbelief, which is so
eminently characteristic of the present day, is due in no small
degree to the operations of these prints. In the following pages
we propose to examine their leading characteristics with as much
impartiality as is possible under the circumstances.

Excluding four organs devoted to the interests of the Catholic
Church, the religious papers published in London are, it appears
from Messrs. Mitchell &Co.'s valuable guide, thirty-six in number.
Eleven of these represent the varying parties into which the
Protestant establishment is divided; two are organs of the
Baptists ; one proudly describes itself as the organ of Noneon-
ibrmity, and takes for its motto the words "The Dissidenee of
Dissent and the Protestantism of the Protestant Religion •/'
Wesleyanism has three organs; Quakerism and Judaism each
two ; and Presbyterianism, Primitive Methodism, and Unitarian-
ism each one. Besides these, eight papers describe themselves as
* Unsectarian,'"' — by which word we may understand excessively
sectarian — and two as " Protestant," one of w^hich " endeavours
to unite all on the common ground of Protestantism, and seeks
to bring forward the common danger of Bomanism," while the
other is a "non-Sectarian Evangelical Protestant'' journal, which
reports sermons, lectures, and general religious intelligence.

Of the " Ecclesiastical Gazette " nothing need be said in this
place. It is the official organ of the Church of England, and
is not a newspaper save in the most limited sen e of the term. It
is published on the Friday after the second Tuesday in every

b2

4 The Religious Press.

month, and though nominally issued at the price of sixpence, its
circulation is almost purely gratuitous, copies being sent free of
charge to every bishop and other dignitary of the Church of England
and to every beneficed clegyman of the same body. The contents
are not of overwhelming interest to the general reader, consisting
as they do, mainly of official documents relatino^to the Establish-
ment, with occasionally an original paper of almost ostentatious
colourlessness on some matter of general interest. The
" Guardian " is a far more important and far more widely read
organ. Established at the beginning of 1846 as the organ of
that section of the Church of England which describes itself as
" Anglo-Catholic," it speedily assumed a position as organ of
the country clergy, much in the same way as the " Field ^' is
accurately described as " the Country Gentleman^s Newspaper.^'
There is hardly a country-house in the kingdom where the latter
organ of '^ Sports, Pastimes, and Natural History '' is not
delivered with Sunday morning's letters, and where it does not
beguile the tedium of Sunday afternoon. In the same way there
is hardly a country parsonage which is not enlivened on Thurs-
day by the handsome broadsheet of the " Guardian.^' The first
number of this journal appeared on the 21st of January 1846, in
the height of the Corn-Law struggle, and at the time when the
relations of Great Britain with Ireland, and with the United
States on the Oregon Question, were in a painfully strained con-
dition. It is not very easy to understand from the opening
leading article what line the conductors intended to take in
politics ; the only point about which there was no uncertainty
being that the paper was neither Whig nor Radical. Eventually
it developed into a Peelite organ, but the phrases of the first
number hardly point in that direction. When a Minister is de-
scribed as " mysterious and intangible — alienating supporters but
commanding votes — not liked, not venerated, but felt to be indis-
pensable— ready to retire, but nobody would dare to take his
place, and all would be sixes and sevens until he got back again ^^
— when, we say, a newspaper speaks of a Minister in such terms,
it can hardly be said that it uses the language of a warm
supporter. By the time the '' Guardian '* had reached its four-
teenth number, a sort of settlement had been arrived at. A new
series was commenced, the size of the sheet was greatly enlarged,
and the " Guardian " is found to be pronouncing the shibboleth
of Free Trade with quite the orthodox accent. Its ecclesiastical
tendencies speedily became very strongly marked, and more space
was given to articles and correspondence on these subjects, the
tone being uniformly that of the more orthodox Church of Eng-
land type. Thus, in the second number of the new series, may be
found an elaborate attack upon the Evangelical Alliance, written

The Religious Press. 5

we are bound to confess, with both force and wit, for their
attempt to construct a new " creed of Christendom/'' On the
lines thus laid down the " Guardian '"' has continued to flourish
for five-and-thirty years. So long as Sir Robert Peel lived it
supported him ; so lono^ as the Peelites continued to exist as a
party it was distinctly Peelite ; when that party was reduced to
one member, in the person of Mr. Gladstone, it transferred its
entire allegiance to him. The clients of the " Guardian '^ do not
invariably relish the devotion of their organ to the extremely
versatile statesman who for the present sways the destinies of
England; and it is not a little amusing to observe the complaining
tone in which some of them protest when they find an apology
for an unusually flagrant piece of tergiversation or high handed-
ness on his part forced as it were down their throats. Still, how-
ever, they accept it — "reluctantly and mutinously,'^ as Lord
Macaulay said of the Tories who supported Peel; for the
" Guardian " is necessary to the English clergy. It is
not only a most useful organ for communication between
various members of that body, but it is written in a style whica
gentlemen and men of education can readily tolerate. The poli-
tical leaders are readable, intelligent and moderate in tone, and
the leaders on ecclesiastical subjects are, from the point of view of
the moderate "High Anglican,''' irreproachable. Of course mis-
takes are made from time to time. Thus, when Bishop Reinkens
and the new sect of " Old Catholics " were guilty of making
a new schism in the Church, both he and they found a warm
apologist in the " Guardian,'^ whilst the proceedings of the Vatican
Council were attacked in a fashion which proved very satisfactorily
the justice of the claim of the Church of England to the title of
Protestant. For the rest the " Guardian — allowing for all
diff*erences of opinion — is by no means an unfavourable specimen
of newspapers of this particular class. The tone of culture and
urbanity by which it is characterized is precisely that which
might be expected in the homes of the English clergy, and if at
times there is a certain air of patronage in its references to the
adherents to the ancient faith of Christendom it is redeemed by
the indubitable scholarship of most of its contributors, and by the
efforts which they are visibly making towards a higher life and a
more complete creed than that which they now possess. That it
is politically given over to Gladstonism need surprise no one who
is aware of the peculiar fascination which that statesman exercises
over those with whom he is brought into contact, and especially
those who were trained in the schools of Oxford, and who have
sat at the feet of Peel.

The " Record " is a paper of a very difierent character. It may
fairly be described as the organ of " The Clapham Sect " — as it

6, The Feligioits Pre,9s.

was the fashion to call the "Evangelical Party " (so called) in the
Church of England in the earlier years of the present century.
The paper is understood to have taken its origin in certain con-
versations held over the dinner-table of a well-known city mag-
nate (Mr. A. Hamilton) in the year 1825, at which the friends of
William Wilberforce were wont to assist. The first number was
not, however, published until the 1st of January, 182S, after being
heralded by a prospectus of a length \\hich might have been
expected from a sect which lays the extreraest stress on what it
is pleased to style "the ordinance of preaching." This wonderful
document commences with a general dissertation on "the varied
and extensive influence of the newspaper/' and goes on to ask
whether "the parent or the master of a family can indulge a reason-
able hope that the constantly repeated history of vice and crime,
told with all its disgusting details, and without any serious
expression of horror at its enormities, will leave no pernicious
impression on the minds of those whom Providence has committed
to his care?" Having answered this question entirely to their
own satisfaction, the promoters of the " Record '' go on to say
that they consider it a duty to establish a journal which shall give
the news of the day "unaffected by the disgusting and dangerous
character of thore baneful ingredients which circulate in intimate,
though certainly not inseparable, union '' with it. An editor had,
we learn, been appointed for this purpose, who — happy man ! —
was to w^ork under the control of a committee of management. On
the lines thus laid down, the "Eecord"" has been issued twice a
week, from Tuesday, the 1st of January, 1828, up to the present
time, and its theological views remain exactly what they were at
the beginning. The first piece of original writing which was
published by this journal, was a violent attack on the Catholic
Bishops and Clergy of Ireland, and an apology for those conver-
sions "by the bribe of a bonnet or a pair of shoes/' which the
writer actually treats as so much a matter of course as not even
to require contradiction. The same kind of thing is to be found
in the "Record'^ of to-day; but of late years this journal has
awakened to the fact that the narrow teaching of the " Clapham
Sect " is menaced quite as much from the side of intellectual
activity, as from that of ecclesiastical supremacy. The Catholic
Church, it is beginning to see, is not the only opponent of
Calvinism, though, as becomes a paper of zealously Protestant
principles, it naturally traces everything to which it takes objection
to the influence of " Popery/' The result is somewhat curious,
since the " Record ^' would seem to trace the vagaries of the party
who indulge in what the late Prime Minister called a " Masquerade
Mass,^' to the direct influence of the Vatican, and at the
same time to refer to the same malign power the peculiar scepticism

I

The Religions Press. 7

of Professors Tyndall and Huxley. The Conservatism of the
" Record " is, indeed, unimpeachable, but its zeal is not always
according to knowledge. Only a few years ago a very remarkable
illustration of the kind of thing which finds favour in "EvangelicaP'
and Protestant circles was afforded by this paper. When the
Great Eastern — most unlucky of steam-ships — was launched, it
may be remembered that there was a very terrible accident. Some
of the machinery broke down, and several of the workmen were
horribly injured in consequence, some six or seven being carried
away in a dying condition. Coincidently with this accident came
the news, first, that the directors of the company by whom the
ship had been built, had — from what motive has never been ex-
plained— decided to change the name of the ship from Great
Eastern to Leviathan ; and, secondly, that the ship itself, in
process of launching, had stuck upon the " ways,'^ and could not
be got off. Straightway the " Record "^ published what was
perhaps the most remarkable leading article of the year. The
readers of this instructive paper were informed with the utmost
gravity that the accident in question was a direct manifestation of
the Divine wrath on account of the change in the name of the
ship. "With all deep theologians,''^ said the '^Record,'"' "Leviathan
is a Scriptural synonym for devil.^'' On this notion the " Record''^
built perhaps the most amazing argument ever seen in a newspaper,
even of the type now under consideration. There was some clumsy
jocularity, which to men of the world outside the charmed circles
of Evangelicalism certainly appeared somewhat profane, about
the Almighty having "put a hook in the nose" of Leviathan,
but the argument of the writer was — nakedly stated — that the
Creator was so angry with his creatures for having given to a big
ship a name which in the opinion of "deep theologians'^ is a
synonym for that of the author of Evil, that he caused a dreadful
accident to happen, by which a number of working-men, who had
nothing whatever to do with the change of the ship's name, lost
their lives, while their equally innocent families were plunged into
undeserved distress and suffering. This view of the Divine nature
and purposes appears to be that most in favour with the readers
of the "Record ;'" for, though not so openly stated, it is in the
main identical with that which usually underlies the interpre-
tations of current events which are to be found in its leading
articles.

If, however, the " Record'^ is a somewhat violent, and to dis-
interested observers a somewhat profane organ of " Evangelical
Protestantism,'-* it is surpassed in these respects by its contem-
porary the " Rock.'' This journal — which, by the way, was said
at one time to be edited by an Irish Orangeman and Presbyterian,
but which is now in the hands of an Anglican clergyman — was

8 The Religious Press.

started at the beginning of 1868, in support of the Protestant
character of the then " United Church of England and Ireland."
Its opening address, which is of the usual type of extreme Protes-
tantism, declares that its province is '^ to appeal to the masses of
this great Empire in defence of Christianity as it came fresh and
pure from the lips of its Divine founder, and from the oracles of
God ; and as it was restored at the Reformation by those Protes-
tant confessors who sealed their protest against Rome, and their
faith in the Redeemer, by the blood of martyrdom/'' But the
'' Rock '' aspires to an even higher part than that of merely
defending the faith : it carries the war into the enemy^s camp ;
only, as the enemy is not at all likely to read its diatribes, it is
hard to see what other effect they can have than that of intensify-
ing party feeling, and making its Protestant readers more bitter
than they were before. " It will be ours, too," this opening ad-
dress goes on, '^to wage a warfare of reason and fiict and argument
against the corrupt teachings and traditions of the Roman
Church ; against the principles and practices of Ritualism, and
against the dangers and the delusions of that Rationalism which
seeks to set the intellect of man above his soul, and does violence to
human reason by its misapplication.^' The way in which the
work is to be accomplished appears in the first number. Under
the heading of "Topics of the Week'' there are series of para-
graphs directed against the Irish Bishops and the English High
Churchmen. Roman " difficulties " are dealt with in a remark-
ably comprehensive and simple manner. The writer has g^ot hold
of a copy of the creed of Pope Pius IV., over the thirteenth
article of which he makes merry in the following fashion : —

As the Roman Church does not pretend to be the mother of the
Jewish Church the declaration must mean that she is the mother and
mistress of all Christian Churches. To be the mother and mistress of
all Christian Churches is to admit the existence of other Christian
Churches. Therefore, a member of the Roman Church must admit as
a fact that there are other Christian Churches besides the Roman
Church. But he is bound to believe, as a point of faith, that the
Roman Church is the mother and mistress of all Christian Churches.

Such stuff as this appears to suit the readers of the "Rock,"
for articles of the same kind are constantly published in its
columns. On matters of fact the " Rock " is equally untrust-
worthy. Thus in the same article we find the statement that
"A Christian Church was planted in England either by Paul
himself, or by one of the Apostles, before Paul went to Rome;
and, as a fact, England was in no way indebted to Rome for her
Christianity.'' The reader of the "Rock" is often puzzled
to know which to admire most — the i«:norance or the

The Religious Press. 9

audacity of this accuser of his brethren. The "poetry''
of the first number affords an opportunity of judgin^^ to what
extent the boast of the opening address is justified — that
the " Rock" is devoted to "the advancement and maintenance of
the truth as enshrined in the Word of God/' The name of the
paper, it will be remembered, is an allusion to that conferred by
our Lord upon S. Peter; and accordingly the first number
appropriately enough contains what is called a "Reformation
Ballad," with the title of "The Foundation Rock/' After
quoting the words of our Lord the balladist goes on —

Peter thou art, but not on such a Rock

Can I upbuild that fabric vast and tall,
Which, rising heavenward, shall the lightnings mock,

And stand secure when storms and tempests fall.

No flesh-foundation could its weight upbear,

No creature strength could those rude shocks sustain.

Still less the frail one, who will soon declare

He knows me not when one dark cloud shall rain.
* * * *

The later issues of the "Rock'' fully bear out the promise of the
earlier. Thus, in that for the 4th of March last, we find that this
veracious print coolly identifies the obstructives in the House of
Commons with "the Romish members;" and this in the face of
the fact that Mr. Parnell is a Protestant of a rather marked
type. It is only fair to say, however, that the " Rock " is quite
as bitter against the Ritualistic party in the Anglican Church,
whom its contributors accuse in no measured terms- of
" doing the work of Rome," and of desiring to propagate " the
immoral teaching inculcated by the Jesuits, and criminal aims
of that society." Some idea of the Christian charity and gentle
tolerance of this faithful exponent of modern Protesfcantism may
be formed from a letter in the number for the 4th of March
above-mentioned. Speaking of the rival Anglican Societies — the
Church Association, wliich has prosecuted the Ritualistic clergy,
and the English Church Union, which has found the funds for
their defence — the writer says that he has " no patience with
those who affect to treat the English Church Union and the
Church Association as a pair of equal delinquents. As well might
they speak of the London thieves and the London police as
equally disagreeable sets of people."

What the " Rock " does for the Low Church party, the
*' Church Times " does for its opponents of the Ritualistic clique
of Anglicans. The great object of this journal is to prove that
the Establishment is a true branch of the Catholic Church; and

10 The Religious Press.

this object it aims at attaining by attacks upon the Anglican
bishops of a most amusingly ferocious kind, by habitual and
systematic abuse of the ^' Reformers/' from Luther and
Melancthon down to Cranmer and Ridley, by dissertations
upon points of ritual and the shape of vestments, and finally
by savage attacks upon the Catholic Church in matters of both
doctrine and practice. The tone of the paper is habitually one of
anger and ill-temper, as if the writers were conscious of being in an
utterly fiilse position, and did not quite know how to get out of it ;
while, as regards scholarship and urbanity, the utter absence of
those qualities is apt to lead the reader to believe that the contents
of this paper must be the production of what Sidney Smith —
whom tlie Whigs would have made a bishop but for his inveterate
habit of joking — was wont to ciU "wild curates/^ It would be
easy to compile a " Florilegium '' of no ordinary beauty from the
issues of this journal during the last few years ; but a few quota-
tions from the numbers published during the present year may
serve to show what manner of print it is which finds favour
with the extremer members of the Ritualistic school of Anglicans.
First, as regards the bishops. It might be thought that these
officials of the Establishment would receive an almost unlimited
amount of reverence and obedience from men who derive their
.orders from them, and who constantly profess to depend upon
the validity of the Anglican succession as a proof of their
own '^Catholic" position. The very reverse, is, however, the
case. The *^ Church Times ^' has hardly words strong enough to
express its loathing and contempt for those whom it professes to
believe the guardians of the faith, and the bulwarks of the
Church. Times without number it has repeated that '' whenever
any real difficulty has occurred in which the Church has been in
danger of losing her spiritual privileges, the main body of the
bishops have been on the adverse side ;"* that '^ the chief obstacles
to church reform have been the bishops ; '^f and that the bishops
lead and encourage the people to do wrong. Sometimes the
journal is facetious at the expense of the bishops. Thus, a corre-
spondent writes to say that being at S. Paul's on a certain
Sunday, he counted fifteen sleepers in a congregation of iifty
persons ; on which we have the bracketed remark : " Our corre-
spondent forgets Bishop Claughton was preaching. — Ed.^'J Some-
times the bishops are instructed in their duties, or rather the
clergy are taught how to behave to their ecclesiastical superiors.
It would appear that some of the bishops have made a rule not
to confirm catechumens until they have attained the age of
puberty. This the " Church Times " considers to be wrong, and

* Jan. U, 1881. f Feb. 18. I Feb. 25.

The Religious Press. 11

accorclino-ly advises its clerical readers that 'Mf the child is ready
and desirous to be confirmed, but is deprived of that blessing by
the arbitrary and illej^al conduct of the bishop, it is clearly the
duty of the parish priest to admit such child to Holy
Communion." The vahie of the opinions of the paper on the
state of the Catholic Church may be estimated from the fact
that one of its most important contributors is that Dr.
Littledale who had the courage to say that the Vatican Decrees
were '^a lie," and that those who promulgated them knew
them to be such. One gem may, however, fairly find a place
here. It is from a letter signed '^Archer Gurnev," and dated
from ''The Vicarage, Rhayader, Feb. 10th, " 1881." The
substance of the letter itself is an attempt to demonstrate
that ''we are living in the Time of the End" — a theory
which the writer endeavours to support by a number of specula-
tions quite worthy of Dr. Cumming "of Scotland,'^ as Pope
Pius IX. described him. This wonderful production ends
thus : —

Now of all unfulfilled events it behoves us to speak with modesty ;
but what should this be if not CathoHc Reunion on the basis of
the worship of the Lamb ? The corrupt system which has so long
possessed itself of the mighty Latin Church is doomed to speedy
overthrow, and that forbidden giving of the heart's affections to the
creature, which Scripture calls spiritual fornication, will be found no
more. No longer will our Lord's abiding work as the High Priest and
Lamb that was slain, in Heaven, and Heaven's kingdom be merged in
antedated judgeship ; no longer will Mary and Joseph be regarded as
mediators between Him and us ! The Jerusalem of the wonderful
16th chapter of Ezekiel will remember her ways and be ashamed
when she shall receive her sisters, the elder and the younger (the
Greek and the Anglican), so that she may never more open her mouth
because of her shame when he is pacified towards her, saith the Lord
God.*

There is only one word by which an educated man of average
common-sense is likely to describe writing of this kind, and that
is, rigmarole; to which a man of devout habit of mind might
be tempted to prefix the epithet profane. The extraordinary
part of the matter is, however, that people who write and read
stuff of this kind should imagine that they are in any sense of
the word Catholic, and that they should — as they certainly do —
expect that the Church should make advances to them in the
hope of securing their valuable support.

Akin to the '' Church Times " is the " Church Review," a
little print whose first number was issued on New Year's Day,

* '' Church Times," Feb. 25, 1881.

12 The Religious Press.

1861, at the price of sixpence, but which now appears at the more
modest figure of a penny. The object of the paper, as originally
announced, was not to supply news, but '' to provide those who
have neither the time nor the means for a search into original
sources with a repertory of arguments, ready for use, in defence
of the Catholic Faith as the English Church has received it from
the beginning/' Party spirit was earnestly and even eagerly dis-
avowed, and a sort of undertakino^ was oriven that information
and opinion would be obtained from all sources, whether "Roman,
Greek, or Lutheran/^ Above all things, the reader was assured that

" this is no commercial speculation The gain which is set

forth as the one aim and end of the undertaking is the vindication
of *the Faith as it was once delivered to the saints/ ^^ At the
outset the paper was in many respects an imitation of
the '' Saturday Review," while it had a sort of quasi-official
character as the organ of the English Church Union. Whilst the
original form was maintained the character of the paper stood
deservedly very high amongst those which represent the Anglican
body. Its articles were scholarly and well written, and tlie re-
views of new books were done with very considerable ability.
Since it has been converted into a penny weekly paper it has,
however, fallen off somewhat seriously. Its politics remain
what they were — Conservative, but not violently so — and in
religious matters its tone is distinctly less truculent than the
excitable " Church Times/^ There is also a most commendable
absence from its pages of those rancorous diatribes with which
the readers of the latter organ are but too familiar. Even here,
however, illustrations may occasionally be found of the hatred
and distrust with which the Ritualistic party regard their Bishops.
For instance, it would seem that the Bishop of Rochester has
thought fit to make some alterations in the arrangements for the
services in a church in his diocese. Even on the most pronounced
of Anglican theories, it might be thought that in so doing Dr.
Thorold was strictly within his right, but according to the
" Church Review,^^"^ his nominee is engaged in the " work of
destruction of the souls of the late congregation and the fabric of
the Church/^ Better things than this might have been expected
from a paper which is not, like the ^' Church Times," the organ of
that most anomalous political party, the "High Church
Radicals."*^

The "English Churchman" is a highly respectable paper,
published at the comparatively high price of threepence, and
representing the Anglican party commonly known as the "high
and dry." Its leading articles can hardly be described as brilliant,

* '■ Church Review," March 4, 1881.

The Religious Press. 13

but there is a fine old-fashioned '' port-winey " flavour about them
— if such an expression may be allowed — which is by no means
disagreeable. The writers are perfectly satisfied with their posi-
tion as representatives of the via media school. They have no
great sympathy with the Ritualists — in fact they distrust them
and their works — but at the same they have an almost equal
distaste for the Low Church clergy, and a hatred for Protestant
dissenters of every type. Thus, in the number for the 3rd of
February last, we find an article on '' The Situation/' suggested
hy a letter from Dr. Pusey which had just appeared in the
^' Times.^' The concluding sentences define the position of the
paper with so much clearness that it is impossible to do better
than quote them. After pointing out the difficulties arising from
tlie deficiencies of the Low Church party, and the excesses of the
Ritualists, the article calls upon the Anglican bishops " to express
clear (sic) and without circumlocution, the plain requirements of
the Prayer Book .... which at any rate would secure the
support of the great mass of the faithful clergy and laity .'■* The
article ends with the following sentences : —

At present a church closed from Sunday to Sunday, or opened for
one half-hearted and dismal service, is not only an anachronism, but a
breach of Church order and an insult to common sense ; while it is
equally manifest that a function such as that at St. Alban's, Holborn,
is only possible by a non-natural interpretation of the Prayer Book,
and by reading back into the Communion office a great deal which,
whether wisely or not, was, on well-authenticated occasions, delibe-
rately omitted from it — to say nothing^of the insertion of other matters
which never found a place in it. Here, we believe, lies the ho])e of a
pacific settlement; not in giving way to either school of extremists,
but in levelling up and levelling down until we reach a little nearer to
the golden mean which is the Church's praise and glory.

If so eminently respectable an organ of a religious party can
have an object of hatred, it must be found in the Protestant
dissenter, for whom it would seem that the "English Church-
man'^ entertains feelings very much akin to those with which
the typical fine lady of half a century ago regarded a spider or a
toad. Unfortunately, the paper, for some reason best known to
itself, entertains a similar distaste for the Catholic Church, which
it expresses in a manner sometimes gratuitously offensive. In
the number already quoted is a paragraph on the Hospital Sun-
day Fund, which is about as unfair and unjust as anything can
be. The opening sentence refers to "the interested and successful
efforts of the English Nonconformists, secretly supported .... by
our Roman Catholic fellow-subjects, to prevent the introduction of
any questions as to religious belief in the approaching census,'^ and
the paragraph then goes on to make sneering reference to the fact

14 The Religions Press.

that of the £28,000 reeeived at the Mansion House, "only £500
(came) from the Roman Catholics, £2,000 from the Independents,
and d^l,100 from the Baptists." The reference to the Protestant
sects may be left out of the question. At the same time the writer
must have known that such a coalition as that which he suijcrests
is impossible ; that Catholics have infinitely more to gain than
to lose from the diffusion of the truth on these subjects ; and,
finally, that the collections on Hospital Sunday in London
afford no test whatever of the amount of charity bestowed by
Catholics on the poor and the suffering.

Unhappily the " English Churchman " appears to delight in
ostentatious displays of its Protestant character, which are by
no means invariably in the best taste. What can educated and
intelligent Englishmen think of such passages as those which we
are about to quote, save that, in spite of all the talk of the last
few years about the "Catholic" character of the English Esta-
blishment, it is still as Protestant as ever, and that the spirit
which prevailed in the days of Henry VIII. is, in religious
matters, the spirit which prevails to-day ? Speaking of the
reply of the Catholic aichbishops and bishops to Mr. Parnell,
the " English Churchman " says :^

.... the Irish Roman Catholic Hierarchy, as regards the land
agitation, have made up their minds, and they and their flocks will
support Mr. Parnell. They may not altogether like him as their
leader, but he is in position — therefore the man for the time; and,
though nominally a Protestant, he has some special advantages and
claims to support. O'Connell was educated by the Jesuits, and alto-
gether a supporter of the Roman Catholic Church far more agreeable
to the priests than Mr. Parnell ; but O'Connell is not in the field, and
they must take what they can get. They are on the whole very well
served. The priests and Mr. Parnell are agreed, and it will not be
by their cons.mt should order and industry be restored to Ireland.

We turn the page and find a letter copied from that influential
organ of public opinion, the " Maidstone and Kentish Journal,"
on *^The Old Catholic Cause in Germany," with which it is
needless to say the "English Churchman" is in full sympathy.
The style, taste and character of this production may be esti-
mated from a single sentence. " Can any patriotic English-
man, German, or Swltzer, consent to accept the re-union of
Christendom on the terms of taking his orders from and kissing
the toe of an Italian"! The succeeding number of the same
journal contains an article on the " Church and Popular Culture,"
apropos of a speech of Bishop Magee of Peterborough, which

* Feb. 24, 1881. f Ibid.

Tlte Religious Press. 15

affords a fair example of the knowledge which the writers in this
paper bring to the discussion of matters in which Catholics are
concerned. After speaking of the appearance of Monsignor Capel
on the platform^ the writer goes on to say that " the ordinary
Roman priest in this country, trained, it may be, in a foreign
seminar}^, seldom exercises any influence over his flock apart from
that of which he is the centre in his purely spiritual capacity/'"^
Of the taste of the conductors of the paper an opinion may be
formed from the fact that the number in which the above sapient
sentence appears contains an article quoted from the '^ E-ecord,^^
devoted to violent abuse of the members of the Society of Jesus,
on the occasion of their establishing themselves in the Cliannel
Islands after their expulsion from France by the Republican
Government.

Of the remaining journals published in the interest of the
Anglican Church but little need be said. They are not, perhaps,
remarkable for brilliancy or for special ability, but they are not
absolutely offensive, and as a rule are marked by a more reverent
and charitable spirit than the polemical organs to which reference
has just been made. The '^ Literary Churchman,'' which appears
every alternate Friday, contains articles on the religious questions
of the day, which are treated from a stand-point of moderate
High Churchmanship, but its main reliance is upon its reviews,
which as a rule are full, scholarly and accurate. The subjects
treated, it is perhaps hardly necessary to say, are usually those
connected with religion and education. The '^National Church"
is the organ of the Church Defence Association, and is published
monthly. Its raison d'etre is the defence of the Establishment
qua Establishment against the attacks of those Protestant dis-
senters who so continually clamour against its pretensions to
speak in the name of the nation and to enjoy the endowments
which have been placed at its disposal. "Church Bells ''^ is
a harmless and well-intentioned little weekly paper of no very
marked character, but in many respects more resembling a care-
fully written tract than anything else — a remark which may be
fairly applied to the one paper remaining on the list, the little
weekly miscellany called " Hand and Heart,'' with which the list
of Anglican papers, properly so called, closes.

The organs of Protestant dissent — or rather perhaps of political
dissent — which come next upon the list, belong to a very different
category from those which have just been under consideration.
In some of them, at all events, there is very little even of the
pretence of religion, and most of them are distinguished by a
bitter and intolerant spirit. Of these organs the typical repre-

* " Enghsh Churchman," March 3, 1881.

16 The Religious Press.

sentative is unquestionably the ^' Nonconformist/^ a paper started
in 1841 as the oro-an of those dissenters who '• conscientiously '^
refused to pay Church Rates. Its founder and first editor
was the late Mr. Edward Miall, a gentleman who started
in life as a dissenting preacher of the Independent — or,
as they now prefer to call themselves, " Congregationalist^' —
sect at the thriving town of Ware in Hertfordshire. In 1841,
Mr. Miall, being then in his thirty-second year, abandoned
the Congregational ministry, though he continued occasionally to
preach in various dissenting chapels until about the year 1852,
when he was returned to the House of Commons as member for
Rochdale. At the general election of 1857 he was unseated, but
when Mr. Gladstone appealed to the country in 1868, he again
succeeded in obtaining a seat — this time for Bradford — which he
retained until the dissolution in 1874. During the whole of this
period he edited the " Nonconformist," and his labours in
connection with that journal were so cordially appreciated, that
that when it was evident that the fall of Mr. Gladstone's first ad-
ministration vras merely a question of weeks, his admirers raised
a sum of no less than 10,000 guineas, which was presented to him
at a luncheon at the Crystal Palace on the 18th of July, 1873.
It will thus be evident that the paper with which Mr. MialFs name
is associated is a representative one in no common degree, and that
it may fairly be taken to speak the mind of that middle class, which
according to some fervid orators is the backbone of the nation, and
from which the great body of English Dissenters are drawn.

It is hardly necessary to say that the " Nonconformist " is
something more than liberal in politics. Mr. Miall was described
as " in favour of Manhood Suffrage," and as '^ utterly opposed to
the principle of religious endowments" — though we believe neither
he nor his admirers have at any time shown the slightest dis-
position to surrender the small properties with which the piety of
their ancestors has endowed themselves. His op'ening address laid
down the principles of dissent with sufficient clearness. Up to the
period when the "Nonconformist" started on its career, dissenters
had, he told them, " fought for themselves, rather than for the
truth." The time had therefore come when they must "abandon
the ground of expediency, and resolutely take up that of prii>ciple"
— when they must " aim not so much to right themselves,
as to right Christianity." When one considers ex quonam
ligno the average British dissenter is cut, it must be owned that
there is something exquisitely ludicrous in the notion of the
Christian faith needing to be "righted" by the exertions of the
ministers, deacons, and congregations of Salem, and Zion, and
Little Bethel. The next line, liowever, lets the world into
the secret. " The union of Church and State is the real evil

The Religious Press. Ij7

against which their efforts must be directed/' It was not always
thus with the sects. Two centuries earlier, Puritanism had risen
in its unloveliness to complete the work begun a century before
by the " Reformers," but the votaries of that creed had not the
smallest objection to the union of Church and State, or to the
possession of endowments. All that they wanted was to have
the endowments for themselves, and that obtained they at once laid
'•'heavy burdens and grievous to be borne'' upon the people,
until the one genius whom Puritanism has produced declared
that " new Presbyter was but old priest writ large."

In the earlier days of its career the efforts of the '^ Noncon-
formist " were chiefly directed against the imposition of Church
Rates. The attack upon Church Rates was, however, only an affair
of outposts, and Mr. Miall frankly avowed as much in his opening
address. The great object of the Protestant Dissenters is a poli-
tical one, and few of them now care to disguise the fact. But
when the " Nonconformist " first made its appearance it was
thought desirable to conciliate the religious Dissenters by the
assertion that the policy of the paper was " based upon New
Testament principles,'' which, as interpreted by Mr. Miall, appear
to embody the whole Radical programme. First and foremost in
the list naturally comes the disestablishment and disendowment
of the Established Church, and that end has been steadily kept in
view during the whole existence of the " Nonconformist." It
cannot be said that the controversy has been waged with any
particular fairness or courtesy. At the outset there was a good
deal of the disagreeable and untruthful talk about " tithe-fed
parsons," " priestism," and similar matters, while the fallacy that
endowments bestowed upon the Establishment by private libe-
rality become forthwith " national property," was from the first
elevated into an article of faith. In 1865 and 1872 a new system
of tactics was adopted. One of the favourite themes for Radical
and dissenting declamation is, as every student of the daily press
knows full well, the iniquity of *' ticketing " the people of this
country with their religious belief, by requiring it to be stated
in the Census Returns. Why this reluctance should exist in view
of the reiterated boasts of their numbers made by Protestant
Dissenters it is not very easy to see, but the fact remains, and the
censuses of 1861 and 1871 have been — like that of the present
year — taken without these important figures. A clumsy attempt
was made in 1851 to obtain some idea of the relative numbers of
the different sects by counting the congregations, but the
figures were notoriously incorrect and untrustworthy, and though
Mr. Horace Mann of the Registrar-General's office, duly manipu-
lated them in the interests of the political Dissenters, no weight
has at any time been attached to them. In the years above-

voL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.] c

18 The Religious Press.

mentioned a bright idea seized the conductors of the '' Noncon-
formist." The Dissenters had effectually prevented a really
effective and accurate religious census from being taken — why
should they not take a census of their own, which might not be
perfectly accurate, but would prove by infallible figures the justice
of their pretension to speak in the name of the great mass of the
people of England? So said, so done. The arrangement was a
very simple, and, at the same time a most ingenious one. It
consisted simply in taking certain areas, limited in a curiously
arbitrary fashion, and counting the number of seats provided
within those areas by the Established Church, by Catholics, by
Jews, and by Dissenters of every type from Congregationalists
and Baptists down to Sweden borgians and Latter-day Saints.
The results were supposed to show the relative proportions of the
various sects, whilst by contrasting the notoriously doubtful
figures of 1851 with those of these manipulated censuses, it was
easy to show that the sects had gained much more largely
than either the Catholic Church or the Establishment. To do
this of course it was necessary to manipulate the figures a good
deal, and that was accomplished by taking, in some towns, the
Parliamentary Borough, and in others the Municipal Borough,
as the area of inquiry, while in cases where the addition of
certain suburbs — as at Cardiff — would have materially altered the
aspect of affairs, they were carefully left out. If to these facts be
added the exaggerations of some figures and the studious under-
stating of others, it will be obvious that these statistics are valu-
able only for party purposes. So notorious and so monstrous
was their false witness, however^ that we believe they have never
been referred to as authorities, even in the meetings of the
•' Liberation Society."

In the course of the year 1880 the ^'Nonconformist" ab-
sorbed the " English Independent," for several years the recognized
organ of the Congregational body. Notwithstanding this fact,
however, it has to a great extent lost the character of a religious
newspaper. It records, it is true, the doings of that much
be-puffed organization, ^' The Dissenting Deputies," the meetings
of the " Liberation Society," and those of such bodies as the
Congregational Chapels Building Society," but there is com-
paratively little religious intelligence, and the leading articles are
not to be distinguished, save perhaps by their acerbity of tone,
from those of the secular press. It is hardly necessary to
say that it supports Mr. Gladstone with intense ardour, and that
it finds abundant reason for satisfaction with the present con-
dition of public affairs.

The Baptist denomination boasts two weekly organs, both of
which are published at the price of a penny. The elder is the

The Religious Press. 19.

" Freeman/' which describes itself as a '^ Journal of Religion,
Literature, Social Science, and Politics." It was established at
the beginning of 1853, and it advertises itself as "A high-class
weekly journal, representing all sections of the Baptist Church."
It need not be added that, while its religious influence is
chiefly confined to the doings of the sect it represents, its
politics are vehemently radical. The tone of the correspondence —
much of which turns upon the rite of Baptism as administered in
the sect — is often unpleasantly flippant, while the erudite
dissensions on the word /3a7rrt^a> do not afibrd a very high
opinion of the scholarship of the sect. The other organ of the
Baptists bears the name of the sect as its title, and audaciously
takes for its motto the words '^One Lord, one Faith, one
Baptism."" Considering that in this little sect alone there
are, according to the R-egistrar- General's Returns, no fewer
than thirteen sub-divisions — that some are Arians, some
Calvinists, some Armenians, some Antinomians, and some ob-
servers of the Seventh Day of the week — it might have been
thought that the last thing of which Baptists would boast
would be their unity. The " Baptist"*^ was projected in 1873, to
meet what was then held to be an acknowledged want amongst
the members of the denomination. It is, of course, Liberal
in politics, but there is very little reference to eternal matters in
its columns, the bulk of the space being occupied with reports of
sermons, and with the general news of the sect. Considerable space
is given to correspondence, the subject lately being, as in the
'^Freeman,'' the right form of baptism. It is difficult in the
extreme for those outside " the denomination '' to understand the
importance which the Baptists attach to this matter. No
one ever doubted that the |3a7rri Jw means to " dip " or " plunge
under " as the Baptists with a vast show of learning contend ;
but they cling to their piece of ritual— the only fragment
as it would seem which they have left to them — as tenaciously
as a High Church curate clings to his chasuble, or an
Evangelical minister to his Geneva gown. For the rest,
the tone of the paper is at the worst harmless, and if
there is something too much about the doings of the Salvation
Army, and of the various societies connected with Mr. Spurgeon's
tabernacle over against the Elephant and Castle, there is at least
a wholesome absence of bigotry and spite which might be
imitated with advantage by many more pretentious organs. At
the same time it might be as well to suggest to the conductors of
the paper, that amongst the duties inculcated upon the early
Christians that of courtesy was not forgotten. It is not
quite courteous, on the part of the dissidents from the old
faith, to speak of Catholics as '^Papists" and " Romanists/ ■*

c 2

20 The Religious Press.

and they may be well assured that there are thousands of people,
as non-Catholic as themselves, to whom words like these are
needlessly offensive.

Of all the dissenting sects, that of the Methodists is perhaps
the most powerful, from the simple fact that it owes its origin to
a master of organization. John Wesley was in many ways a
genuinely great man. He was curiously narrow-minded ; he was
grossly superstitious ; he was overbearing and autocratic in an
extraordinary degree. But he seems to have had an intuitive
perception of the needs of his time, and of the proper way in
which to encounter them. That time was not ripe for the restora-
tion of Catholic order and of the Catholic faith, but it was quite
prepared for the institution of a system which might render
something approaching to religion acceptable to the masses of the
people, for whom the moribund Establishment had done nothing,
or next to nothing, during the whole of the eighteenth century.
When Wesley came, with his lean ascetic face and sensational
religionism, the common people heard him gladly. All might,
however, have been lost, had it not been for the fact that his
genius for organization made of the Methodist sect what was
practically, so far as this world is concerned, a veritable Church.
At the outset the sect was but an off- shoot from the Anglican
Establishment, and was — in theory at all events — dependent upon
the ministers of that Establishment for everything save those
pious exercises of prayer, hymn- singing, and exhortation in which
the true-born Methodist delights. Wesley then stepped in, and
the system was settled under which the whole body of Methodists,
was divided into classes. Every member of the sect belonged to
a " class ^' : each class had its "class leader,'^ who collected from
those under his charge the weekly penny, which was duly handed
over to the " superintendent " of the district, and by him trans-
mitted to head -quarters, thereto be disposed of according to the
orders of the founder of the Society. As a recent writer has
remarked " if Louis XIV. could say with truth L'Etat cest moi,
so with even greater accuracy could John Wesley say of the
Society which bears his name that it was himself, and that
none had the right to interfere with it.'' That view Wesley
maintained, with the result of establishing a body which at the
present moment is, next to the Catholic Church, the most powerful
in Christendom, especially in the United States. In England
the various sects which call themselves after the name of Wesley
form a community second in numbers only to the Established
Church itself. In America, where for many years Methodism was
practically the only religion of the people, the Methodist body
is one of the strongest in existence. With its pseudo " bishops,^'
" church officers," " superintendents," " class leaders " and

The Religious Press. 21

"pastors/' the Methodist Episcopal Church of the United States
is a body which cannot be left out of account in considering
the religious position of the New World.

In England the Methodist body has never attained the pro-
portions of the same Society in the United States, and — as is
perhaps not altogether a matter for surprise — Methodism has
never obtained a hold upon the educated classes. The very poor
who want an emotional religion are sometimes attracted by the
forms and the principles of the sect; but the cultured and
refined are repelled by its wild enthusiasms and show no
anxiety for edification out of the mouths of the inspired cobblers
and tinkers who fill the ranks of the Methodist ministry. John
AVesley kept himself fairly aloof from this class during his life-
time, but his brother Charles — the " sweet singer " of the sect —
lived for many months with an illiterate and fanatical brazier in
Little Britain, and his example has been followed by not a few
of the later Methodists. The result may be seen in their litera-
ture. Methodism is represented in the periodical press by four
weekly papers, and it is not saying anything uncharitable to
describe these organs as amongst the feeblest, even of the religious
newspapers. The oldest of these journals is the " Watchman ^^ — a
paper which made it first appearance on the 7th of January,
1835. It was started with the assurance that the profits
arising from its sale should be devoted to the support of some
public institution. How far this pledge has been redeemed it
is of course impossible to say, but in any case the charitable
institution in question must have done very well during
the last five-and-forty years, since, judging by the adver-
tisements, the " Watchman '' is a very satisfactory property,
commercially speaking. The principles of the paper may
best be judged by a paragraph from the opening address,
which will possibly serve better than any elaborate dissertation
to explain in t e phrase of the great dissenter, John Foster,
*' the aversion oi' men of taste to Evangelical religion.'''

The principles on which this publication will be conducted will be
such, as without giving to it a formally theological or religious
character, may yet at all times harmonize with the great principles
laid down in Holy Scripture, and with the authorized principles and
usages of the Wesleyan Methodist Connexion. Accordingly, in directing
his course, the editor will contemplate as his "cynosure" that moral
providence of God by which He governs the nations. While on the
one hand it is not to be forgotten that the present is one of those grand
climacterics of the world on which important revolutions of opinion, and
transitions to new stages of the social state, are found deeply to affect
the character and stability of existing institutions. On the other hand,
in the conducting of this newspaper, it will be remembered that there

££ The Religious Press.

are, after all, in connection with that ''kingdom which cannot
be moved," principles which, in the best and highest sense, are
at the same time reforming and conservative and which, if need be, will
prove to be resuscitating also ; since, even on the supposition of events
the most appalling in prospect to a patriotic mind, they would survive
the wreck of civil order, and reorganize society on a permanent founda-
tion. It is not intended to be maintained that the spirit of change,
which so strongly marks the present age, is all darkness, and its oppo-
site all light ; nor will the desire for legitimate reform be confounded
with a passion for lawless revolution. But taking his station on the
tower of that heavenly truth, which is perfect and immutable, and thus
raised above the tumult of these various conflicts which may at any
time distract the public mind, it will be the object of the "Watchman"
not only to keep a diligent look-out upon the movements of society,
and to make regular and accurate reports of them, but also, on all fair
occasions, to interpose among the combatants with " words of truth
and soberness," such as may serve to soothe and moderate their spirit ;
and especially whenever, as appears to be partly the case at present,
conflicting parties, weary with contention, languish for repose, it will
be his concern to seize the golden opportunity, and to throw off their
attention from mere party politics, to things of everlasting and

universal obligation But, in all cases, the principal aim of the

journal will be to encourage that moral "preparation of the heart,"
which is so favourable to a right use of the understanding ; and to
place all public affairs in that same light in which alone the far less
complicated and uncertain interests of private life can be fairly
estimated — the clear and solemn light of eternity.

The earlier numbers of the " Watchman ^^ were moderately
Conservative in tone, but disfigured by the verbosity and
"' cant " which mark the passage quoted above. They are, more-
over, anything but pleasant reading, from the fact that, at the
time when the paper was first started, the Methodist body was in
the throes of one of those periodical convulsions which
wait like a Nemesis on all sects. Column after column was
occupied with the disputes of " Dr. Warren and his party/'
with complaints against " an individual most falsely styling him-
self a follower of John Wesley, and who (sic) has for years been
well known in the Circuit as a promoter of strife and contention
both in Church and State, and whose vulgar abuse and outrageous
violence towards the Ministers of Christ are such as must make
it apparent, even to his own partisans, that he is wholly destitute
of that piety to which he has made such high but delusive pre-
tensions/' On the other hand, the early numbers of the
'* Watchman '^ contain a host of advertisements expressive of the
'' high sense " which the Methodists of that day entertained for the
Rev. Jabez Bunting, for whose "intellectual and moral character,
and for the value and disinterestedness of his labours in the cause
of Wesleyan Methodism,^' it would, it appears, be difficult to say

The Religious Press, 28

too much. Of the amenities of Protestant controversy, the earlier
numbers of the " Watchman ^' afford some interesting specimens.
Of late years it has changed its character to a somewhat
remarkable extent. In politics it still professes Liberal-Conser-
vatism, but the former quality is much more conspicuous
than the latter; while its religious tendencies are distinctly less
sectarian than they were when it first started on its career. It
is interesting to note bow from time to time even a journal so
distinctly Protestant as this, is compelled to admit the power and
influence of the Catholic Church. To its credit, it has never joined
in the anti-religious warfare which some of the sects have waged
during the last half century, and the representatives of the
Wesleyan body will usually be found in the same division lobby
with Catholics when religious education is under discussion.
Latterly this subject has been taken up with considerable energy,
and those who care to turn over the files of the " Watchman '^ will
find abundant reason for hopefulness with regard to the future of
Wesleyanism. Sectarian though they may be, the followers of
John Wesley are very obviously impressed with the fact that
Sectarianism pure and simple unquestionably leads to contempt
for and defiance of all religion, and that the only hope for religion
lies within the fold of the Church. A recent number of this
paper contains a letter from Dr. J. H. Rigg, the Principal of the
W^esleyan Training College for Elementary Schoolmasters, and a
member of the London School Board. This letter is remarkable
for the indirect testimony which it affords, first, to the rapidly
increasing power and influence of the Church in the United States ;
and, secondly, to the uneasiness with which Protestants, who
are honestly religious view the flood of infidelity which is
gradually over-spreading those countries where the principle of
authority is condemned, and where "the right of private judg-
ment"" is most freely exercised. The official organ of the
American Methodist body — the " New York Christian Advocate "
— has, it seems, devoted a long article to the religious condition of
the city of St. Louis, and Dr. Rigg, from his personal experience,
endorses the statements of his American contemporary. It
appears that in that city, which numbers 350,000 inhabitants,
" Roman Catholicism is the dominant religion/'' that the " Un-
sectarian common Schools of America have become absolutely
godless;" that the people of St. Louis have to "submit to a
godless system of education controlled and enforced by bar-room
politicians, infidels, and atheists/' and that " there is not a dis-
tinctively Protestant religious school in St. Louis, excepting one
little institution belonging to the Episcopalians.^^ Two or three
sentences from Dr. Rigg^'s letter may be added in this place in
order to illustrate the charity of Protestant dissenters, and the
amenities of controversy as understood by the Wesleyan body.

24 The Religious Press.

We have (says the writer) 45,000 in the churches of all denominations,
and 120,000 in the saloons on the Sabbath day. Koman Catholicism

(he adds) is an angel of mercy as compared with those saloons

With few exceptions the leading churches are huddled together in a
small compass in the wealthiest portion of the city. The down- town
population is left to the Catholics, the police, and the devil.

One fact only remains to be noticed in connection with the
" Watchman/-' and that is the great number of quack medicine
advertisements which adorn its columns. Religious newspapers
generally profit by advertisements of this kind, but the " Watch-
man '' is unusually fortunate in securing them.

Another organ of the Wesleyan body is the " Methodist
Kecorder/^ a penny sheet, which was started in 1861, with the
avowed intention of " presenting, from week to week, a complete
body of Wesleyan intelligence." The paper presents few features
of special interest. Its terminology is of course that of the sect
it represents, and its politics may be concisely described as
Gladstonian. Like the '' Watchman," it contains a good many
advertisements of quack medicines, and it is further distinguished
by its custom of printing at length the sermons preached on the
occasion of the funerals of conspicuous members of the sect. The
'* Methodist" — a third journal of the same type — dates from 1874,
and is chiefly remarkable for its very aggressive Protestantism.
The point aimed at is not very high, and a study of the columns of
the paper is not likely to impress the reader with a very exalted
opinion of the intellectual capacity of the modern Methodist.
Much the same verdict will probably be given by the majority of
readers with reference to the remaining Methodist publication on
our list — the ''Primitive Methodist." As its name imports, this
is the organ of that sect of the Methodist body which is most ad-
dicted to the practice of those extravagances which have brought it
into disrepute with sober-minded and reasonable people. It is
hardly necessary to say that it is intensely Protestant in tone, or
that in politics it is as ardently Radical. If the Church is
mentioned, it is always in terms which imply that the enlightened
Primitive Methodists consider her as on a level with the heathen ;
while if the Conservative party or the House of Lords comes into
question it is always with expressions which appear to be borrowed
from the vocabulary of those Sunday papers which are the
discredit of English journalism.

The most remarkable of the religious newspapers is, however,
the " War Cry '^ — the organ of that " Salvation Army" whose
erratic doings not unfreqently bring them into more or less violent
collision with the police, and with the populace of our large towns.
The social position of these persons maybe estimated from two

i

The Religious Press. 2 5

facts : one that their liead-quarters are in the not very savoury
region of the Whitechapel Road ; the other that, like the secret
societies of Foresters, Buffaloes, Odd Fellows, and their kindred,
they appear to take an immense delight in absurd titles, and in
the wearing of uniforms and decorations. The kind of religion
which is preached by the leaders of this singular organization may
be readily comprehended by the study of a few numbers of its
favoured organ. In the first place the hierophants of the sect
appear to lay great stress on their having been originally persons
of very bad character, and at best of the lowest rank in life. Each
number of the " War Cry " contains the portrait and biography
of one of the leaders of the movement, and during the first three
months of the present year the personages thus commemorated have
been as follows : Abraham Davey, an agricultural labourer, edu-
cated as a Protestant dissenter of some unspecified type; Henry
Reed, of Launceston, Tasmania, who, if not a convict, seems as
though he ought to have been one; Tom Payne, a '^ converted
pot-boy;^' "Captain (Mother) Shepherd," born a Baptist and utterly
without education, who lived a vicious life for many years until
" converted "" by the preaching of " Dowdle, the converted railway
guard;" "Captain" George Taberer, the converted drunkard;
" Captain" Polly Parks, an ex-nursery maid ; " Captain" Thomas
Estill, an ex-seaman, not wholly unknown to the police; "Captain"
Roe, the converted horse-jockey; "Captain " Wilson, the reformed
Manchester drunkard ; " Captain " Hanson, a foremast man,
who appears to have been the most respectable of the
party; and, lastly, " Mrs. Captain" Howe, apparently an ex-maid-
servant. The second point about these worthy people is, that,
apart from their fantastic designations as members of the
" Salvation Army," they are extremely fond of adopting fancy
titles and eccentric signatures. Thus, in the number of the
" War Cry " for the 13th of January there is a letter, the signature
to which is literally as follows ; " Private W. Stephens, the blood-
washed coachman of the Stroud Corps." In that for the 3rd of
February is a piece of Welsh poetry, which is signed " William
Davies, the happy Welshman,'^ and similarly eccentric signatures
may be found in every number.

A third point which will strike the dispassionate reader of this
paper is the astonishingly free-and-easy way in which the
" Salvation Army " deal with matters of which commonplace
Christians speak, if not " with bated breath and whispering
humbleness,'^ with at least reverence and humility. Richter is
said to have remarked that no man could be described as trulv
religious who was not on such friendly terms with his religion
that he could make a joke of it. Whether the saying was not in
itself a somewhat indifferent jest may be open to question. At

26 The Religious Press,

the same time, it is beyond question that the " hot-gospellers "
of the Salvation Army talk about the most sacred things with an
irreverence which can only be described as shocking. No small
amount of space is taken up with pious parodies of popular songs.
"E,ule Britannia^' becomes "Rule Emanuel :^^ —

When Christ the lord at God's command,
In love, came down to save the lost,

The choir of heaven, with golden harps,
Praised Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Chorus.

Rule Emanuel, Emanuel rules the waves.
Christians never shall be slaves.

The "Blue Bells of Scotland '^ is distorted into a hymn begin-
ning—

Oh, where ! and, oh where can I now a Saviour find ?
'^ Weel may the keel row " becomes the " Newcastle Anthem ^^ —

Oh, we're all off to glory, from glory to glory,
We are all off to glory, to make the heavens ring.

And so forth. The specimens already given will show pretty
clearly the type of literature represented by the "War Cry." The
news is given in paragraphs of the same character. We quote
one which has for head-line : " Sheerness. Major Moore to
the front. All night with Jesus.

Our Chatham comrades ran over, and the salvation jockey and his
lieutenant gave some soul- stirring speeches. We could see that
many were too badly wounded to get over it without going to the
Great Physician. But the meeting that followed, called " an all-night
with Jesus," beggared description. From one to two o'clock Tuesday
morning there could not have been less than 100 souls (saints and
sinners) struggling and wrestling with the Lord, who had promised a
clean heart. For about half-an-hour we felt we were in Heaven ; the

Spirit of God was upon us We do want a barracks of our own.

Will not some one who loves God and souls send Captain Davey a
good donation towards one. The Almighty pays 100 per cent, for all
that is given out of pure love to Him. Send it along.

The appeal with which this paragraph closes is eminently
characteristic of the paper in which it appears. The begging is
constant, and apparently very successful. By the figures which
are published from week to week, it would seem that the circula-
tion of the "War Cry" is about 5,000, and the leader of the
movement acknowledges from week to week contributions of from

I

The Religious Press. 27

£%^ to £h^. Where the balance-sheets are to be seen is not
stated, nor is the total of each week^s contributions given; but we
have, instead, a strenuous protest against unprincipled imitators
who — in the words of the cheap tailors — ''are guilty of the
untradesmanlike falsehood of representing themselves as the same
concern '' : —

In reply to numerous inquiries, we desire it to be distinctly under-
stood that we have nothing whatever to do with the American
Christian Army, or the Christian Army, or the Gospel Army, or the
Christian Mission Army (neither at Kipley or Castlelbrd).

And we will not be held responsible in any way for the debts or
doings of either of these societies, or any other imitation.

We have no connexion with persons styling themselves the Halle-
lujah Army in Ireland or elsewhere, and invite information of persons
stating they are in connexion with us.

The interests of the Presbyterians are cared for in the " Weekly
Review,^'' a four-penny journal of moderately Liberal politics which
dates from the spring of 1 862. As a matter of course, the greater
part of the space in this paper is occupied by the doings of the
body in whose name it speaks, but some portion of it is reserved
for leading articles and for occasional poetry of a somewhat
advanced type of Protestantism. There is a fine intolerance
about some of these productions which is very characteristic of
the country of John Knox, while the terminology is exactly what
might be expected amongst people who have put what they call
" Sabbath -keeping" in the place of almost all religious duties,
and who have substituted the hearing of polemical sermons for
the duty of Christian worship. The spirit of the following
piece of verse is worthy of the Covenanters themselves : —

British Law must control our Papal Priests.*

If any Papal Cleric be inclined
To show his canine teeth, no man, I hope,
Would urge our Government to tell the Pope
That such a snarler ought to be confined.
What ! shall we miserably creep behind
The Papal petticoat, and scream " Ahoy !
Good mother, rid me from that naughty boy !"
For shame, is that the measure of your mind !
Our ruling men must manage our affair.
And not go whining to a foreign priest ;
When any double-dealing knave will dare
To violate our statutes in the least.
Let him be put beneath the judge's care,
And dealt with so that truth may be increased.

* "Weekly Eeview," March 12, 1881.

28 The Religious Press.

The expression of these lines might perhaps be improved, but
there is no possibility of misunderstanding the spirit which
dictates them, and that spirit, it is lamentable to say, pervades
the entire paper.

The Unitarian " Inquirer '^ is a paper of a very different type.
Its tone is almost ostentatiously tolerant, and there is a
superciliousness about its leading articles which, to the non-
Unitarian mind, is sometimes intensely exasperating. At the
same time it must be admitted that there is an air of culture
about the paper, which is by no means frequently to be met with
in the organs of the dissenting sects.

Of the other religious papers — so-called — it is not necessary
to say much, Quakerism boasts a couple of organs in the weekly
press — the " British Friend " and the " Friend — but neither of
them presents any very salient features. The Hebrew community
are also represented by two newspapers, the " Jewish Chronicle "
and the " Jewish World," two journals which serve, if they serve
iio other purpose, to prove that the people of what it is the fashion
to call " the ancient faith '''' have hardly altered in about two
thousand years, and that there are amongst them a quite sufficient
number of those qui negant esse resurrectionem. These papers
are, however, of very small interest as compared with those which
describe themselves as " unsectarian,''-' and which are carried on
in the interests of the dissenting sects. A writer in '*' Macmillan's
Magazine " recently described these organs at some length, and
it would be difficult to add much to his account of them. The
"Christian World," the "Christian," the "Christian Herald,"
and the " Fountain," appear to be written by dissenting ministers
of the lower type — and what they are Mrs. Oliphant has told
the world once for all in her inimitable novels, " Salem Chapel "
and " Phoebe Junior " — for the edification of the young ladies and
gentlemen of a " serious " turn of mind, who serve behind the
counters of the shops in provincial towns, and who form the
back-bone of the congregations of the dissenting chapels in the
provinces. The stories which they contain are somewhat dull,
and the articles which adorn them are not, as a rule, of a kind to
attract people of refined taste, but there is an abundance of
sectarian spite and jealousy, which, it is not unfair to suppose,
makes up for deficiencies in other respects. Two points only
remain to be noticed. The first is, that these papers appear, as
a rule, to live by the advertisements of quack medicines, quack
tea, quack jewellery, and quack pictures ; the second, that the
most widely-circulated of all — or at all events the one wbicli
professes to enjoy the widest circulation — is given up to specula-
tions on the prophecies of the Old Testament and the Apocalypse.
Of these matters it requires a certain sense of humour to speak

The Extent of Free Will. 29

with temper. When, however, we find a "clergyman of the
Church of England " — whose name, by the way, does not appear
in the " Clergy List '' — complacently predicting the destruction
of the. world as imminent on the strength of his reading of
certain passages in the prophecies of Daniel, and talking with
similar complacency of the ^' followers of the Scarlet Woman
of Babylon," our laughter is apt to have a rather sardonic
quality about it. Nor, in view of the fact that those who
believe in the peculiar theology of these journals are amongst
the most devout of Sabbatarians, is it possible to regard with
entire complacency the trivial circumstance that one at least of
them is openly sold on Sundays within the walls of that ^'Temple"
of which its editor is the hierophant.

On the whole, a survey of the so-called religious press of England
is not flattering to the national pride. Amongst the organs of the
Establishment may be found the representatives of the half dozen
sects into which that body is divided; but in no one is it
possible to discover that Catholic spirit which it was the hope
of the Tractarians of 1830 to revive. The Low Church party
appear to delight in journals whose actual raison d'etre is
their opposition to the Catholic faith, and which in their
violent Protestantism not unfreqently lose sight of the decencies
of controversy. The papers which represent the interests of
Protestant dissent are not much wiser or less virulent ; whilst
some of them are, as a matter of fact, examples of what
journalism should not be. Yet these are papers of the widest
circulation ; and it is to their readers and supporters that is now
committed the final decision of all matters concerning the real
government of the country.

Art IL— THE EXTENT OF FREE WILL.

WE need not, we hope, remind our readers that our present
succession of articles has for its purpose the establishing
securely on argumentative ground — particularly against con-
temporary Antitheists — the Existence of that Personal and
Infinitely Perfect Being, whom Christians designate by the
name " God." Hardly any premiss (we consider) is more
effective for this conclusion, than the existence of Free Will
in man, as irrefragably proved by reason and experience. We
have accordingly been proceeding of late with a series bearing
on this particular theme. We drew out, in April, 1874, our
general line of argument on the subject ; and we examined

80 The Extent of Free Will

successfully (pp. 347-360) all the objections against Free Will
which we could find adduced by Mr. Stuart Mill and by Dr.
Bain. Dr. Bain replied to this article : and we rejoined in
April, 1879 ; adding some supplementary remarks in October
of the same year. Dr. Bain briefly returned to the controversy
in the Mind of January, 1880, and we answered him in the
April number of the same periodical :* nor (as he informs us in
a most courteous private letter) does he intend to continue the
controversy further. In the April number of Mind there
also appeared an elaborate criticism of our whole argument,
from the pen of Mr. Shad worth Hodgson ; which we answered
at length in our number of last October. Mr. Hodgson briefly
replied in the Mind of last January, and we are quite willing to
leave him the last word for the present. More than one Catholic
of weight has expressed to us a wish that we would press on
more rapidly with the general chain of our Theistic argument ;
and we would defer, therefore, our reply to our last opponent,
till the chain is completed. Meanwhile we can desire nothing
better, than that fair-minded and impartial thinkers shall judge
for themselves, how far anything now said by Mr. Hodgson
tends to invalidate the arguments we had adduced for our own
conclusion.

The ground we have taken up (as our readers will remember)
has been this. Determinists maintain, that the same uniformity
of sequence proceeds in the phenomena of man's will, which
otherwise prevails throughout the phenomenal world ; that every
man, at every moment, by the very constitution of his nature,
infallibly and inevitably elicits that particular act, to which the
entire circumstances of the moment (external and internal)
dispose him. We have argued in reply, that, — whereas un-
doubtedly each man during far the greater part of his waking
life is conscious of a "spontaneous impulse,'' which is due
to his entire circumstances of the moment, and results infallibly
therefrom — he finds himself by experience nevertheless able again
and again to resist that impulse. He is able, we say, to put
forth at any given moment what we have called ^' anti-impulsive
effort '" and to elicit again and again some act indefinitely
different from that to which his spontaneous impulse solicits
him.

Here our position stands at present ; and it contains all which
is necessary, in order that the fact of Free Will may possess its
due efficiency in our argument for Theism. Nevertheless, in
order to complete the scientific treatment of Free Will, a
supplementary question of great importance has to be con-

* This paper was appended to the Dublin Review of July, 1880.

I

The Extent of Free Will. 81

sidered : a question, moreover, which Dr. Bain expressly
challenged us to face. During how large a period of the day,
in what acts, under what conditions, is any given human being
able to exercise this gift of Free Will ? And we are the rather
called on not to shrink from this question, because the very
course of reasoning which we have been obliged to adopt against
the Determinists, — unless it be further developed and ex-
plained— might be understood (we think) to favour a certain
tenet, with which we have no sympathy whatever : a tenet,
which we cannot but regard as erring gravely against reason,
against sound morality, and against Catholic Theology. The
tenet to which we refer is this : that my will is only free at
those particular moments when, after expressly debating and
consulting with myself "^ as to the choice I should make between
two or more competing alternatives, I make my definite resolve
accordingly. This tenet is held (we incline to think) more or
less consciously by the large majority of non-Catholic Libertarians;
and even many a Catholic occasionally uses expressions and
arguments, of which we can hardly see how they do not imply
it. Now we are especially desirous that Catholics at all events
shall see the matter in (what we must account) its true light.
Our present article then may in some sense be called intercalary.
We shall not therein be addressing Determinists at all, or pro-
ceeding in any way with our assault on Antitheism ; except of
course so far as such assault is indirectly assisted by anything
which promotes philosophical unanimity and truth among the
body of orthodox believers. It is Catholics alone whom we
shall directly and primarily address ; and indeed — as regards
the theological reasoning which will occupy no very small
portion of our space — we cannot expect it of course to have
any weight except with Catholics. But we hope (as we pro-
ceed) to deal with each successive question on the ground of
philosophical, no less than theological, argument. Nor will
our philosophical arguments imply any other controverted
philosophical doctrines, except only those which we consider
ourselves to have established in our previous articles. We
consider, therefore, that our reasoning has a logical claim on the
attention — not of Catholics only — but of those non-Catholics
also, who are at one with us on the existence of Free Will and
on the true foundation of Ethical Science. Still (as we have
said) our direct and primary concern will be throughout with
Catholics.

The tenet which we desire to refute (as we have already

* We purposely avoid the word " deliberating," because it has led (we
think) to much contusion of thought.

32 The Extent of Free Will.

explained) is this : that a man is only free at that particular
moment when — after expressly debating and consulting with
himself as to the choice he shall make between two or more
competing alternatives —he makes his definite resolve in one or
other direction. The thesis which we would oppose to this
(as we said in answer to Dr. Bain's inquiry) may be expressed
with sufficient general accuracy by affirming, that each man is
free during pretty nearly the whole of his waking life. The
controversy, which may be raised between these two widely
different views, is our direct controversy on the present occasion ;
and the thesis we have just named is our direct thesis. But it
will be an absolutely necessary preliminary task, to exhibit
(what we may call) a map of man's moral nature and moral
action. This preliminary task will occupy half of our article ;
and when it is finished, we shall have gone (we consider) con-
siderably more than half way towards the satisfactory exposition
and defence of our direct thesis itself. Moreover, we hope that
this preliminary inquiry will be found by our readers to possess
some interest, even apart from the conclusion for the sake of
which we introduce it. It will be necessary indeed to discuss
incidentally one or two points, which have been warmly debated
in the schools ; and we have need, therefore, at starting to solicit
the indulgence of our readers, for any theological error into
which we may unwarily fall. At the same time we shall do
our very best to avoid any such error. And at all events we
shall confidently contend in due course, that as regards the
direct point at issue — the extent of Free Will — we are sub-
stantially following the unanimous judgment of standard Catholic
theologians. Without further preface then, we embark on our
preliminary undertaking.

I. We begin with the beginning. It is held as a most
certain truth by all Libertarians, both Catholic and other, that
no human act of this life can be formally either virtuous or
sinful — 'Can be worthy either of praise or blame — unless it be a
j-ree act ; and only so long as it continues free. On this truth
we have spoken abundantly on earlier occasions, and here need
add no more. Whenever, therefore, in the earlier part of this
article, we speak of acts as " virtuous " or " sinful '■' — we must
alvyays be understood as implying the hypothesis, that they are
at the moment free. How far this hypothesis coincides with
fact — how large a part of human voluntary action is really free
— this is the very question on which, before we conclude,
we are to set forth and defend what we account true doctrine.
Meanwhile let it be distinctly understood, that where
there is no liberty, acts may be '' materially '' virtuous or

Tlie Extent of Free Will. 83

sinful ; but they cannot be " formally " so, nor deserve praise
or blame.

II. " Nemo intendens ad malum operatur/^ There is no
attractiveness whatever to any one in wrongdoinj^ as such; nc^
human being does — or from the constitution of his nature can —
do wrong, precisely because it is wrong. This is the absolutely
unanimous doctrine of Catholic theologians and philosophers.
It deserves far fuller exposition than we have ]iere space to give
it ; but a very few words will suffice to show, how clearly
experience testifies its certain and manifest truth. Take the
very wickedest man in the whole world, and get him to fix his
thoughts carefully on such topics as these : ^' How exquisitely
base and mean to ruin the friend that trusts me ! " " How
debasing, polluting and detestable is the practice of licentious-
ness V^ " How odious and revolting are acts of envy and
malignity ?^ Will it be found that such considerations spur
him on to evil actions ? that the baseness, meanness, odiousness
of an evil action is an additional motive to him for doing it ?
On the contrary, he knows to the very depth of his heart
how fundamentally different is his moral constitution. He
knows very well that, if he could only be got to dwell on
such a course of thought as we have just suggested, he would
assuredly be reclaimed ; and for that very reason he entirely
refuses to ponder on the wickedness of his acts. It is their
pleasurableness, not their wickedness, which stimulates him to
their performance.

III. Accordingly, it is the universal doctrine of Catholic
theologians and philosophers, that all ends of action which men
can possibly pursue are divisible into three classes : '' bonum
honestum ; " *' bonum delectabile ^' ; " bonum utile/' Let us
explain what we understand by this statement. Virtuousness*
— pleasurableness — utility — these are the only three ends, which
men can possibly pursue in any given action. Whatever I am
doing at any particular moment, I am doing either (1) because
I account it "virtuous'"' so to act; or (2) because I seek
'^pleasurableness '^ in so acting; or (3) because I regard the
act as '"useful,'' whether to the end of virtuousness or of
pleasurableness; or (4) from an intermixture of these various
motives. This is plainly the case : because I have not so much,
as the physical power of doing what is wicked because it is
wicked ; and the only motive therefore, which can possibly

* For our own part — and with great deference to those excellent and
thoughtful CathoUcs who think otherwise — the more we reflect, the more
confidently we hold that "virtuousness " is an entirely simple idea. We
argued for this conclusion — which to us seems a vitally important one —
in January, 1880.

VOL. VI. — NO. I. {Third Series.'] d

34 The Extent of Free ^Yill

prompt my wrong action^ is the pleasurableness \vlilcli I thence
expect to derive.

Or let us put the same truth in a clifFeient shape. My
V absolute" end "^ of action must in every case — by the very
necessity of my mental constitution. — be either virtuousness,
or pleasurableness^ or the two combined : but there are various
"intermediate" ends at which I may aim, as being "useful''
to the attainment of my " absolute " ends.

At the same time it is abundantly clear on a moment's con-
sideration, that if this division is to be exhaustive — under the
term " pleasurableness " must be included, not bodily pleasurable-
ness alone, but intellectual, ffisthetical, or any other: the delight of
reading a beautiful poem, or of gazing on sublime scenery, or of
grasping a mathematical, philosophical, or theological demonstra-
tion. Then again the malignant, the envious, the revengeful
person finds delight in the sufferings of his fellow-men. Lastly,
it is further clear, that "pleasurableness" includes very pro-
minently " negative" pleasurableness — viz., the escape from pain,
grief, ennui.

We have spoken on an intermixture of ends ; but a few more
words must be added to elucidate that subject. On some
occasion, under circumstances entirely legitimate, I largely assist
some one who has fallen under heavy misfortune. Let us first
suppose, that I do this exclusively because I recognise how
virtuous it is to render such assistance. Yet the act may cause
me intense pleasure — the pleasure of gratifying my compassion —
because of God's merciful dispensation, which has so largely
bound up pleasurableness with the practice of virtue. So far is
clear. But now it is abundantly possible — indeed it probably
happens in a very large number of cases — that this pleasurable-
ness may be part of the very end which motives my external
act. If this be so, the more convenient and theologically
suitable resource is (we think) to account the will's movement
as consisting of two different simultaneous acts. Of these two
acts, the one is directed to virtuousness, to pleasurableness the
other : the one (as will be seen in due course) is virtuous ; the
other (as will also be seen) may indeed be inordinate and so
sinful, but need not be sinful at all.

Something more should also be said on that special end of
action, virtuousness. It is laid down by various theologians
(see Suarez, " de Gratia," 1. 12, c. 9, li. 1; Mazzella, "De
Virtutibus Infusis," n. 1335) that acts truly virtuous, though

* We purposely avoid saying "ultimate'^ end ; because we are inclined
to think that much confusion has arisen from the different senses which
have been driven to the term " linis ultimus."

The Extent of Free Will. 35

'done without tlioufi^lit or even knowledge of God^ are referred
to Him nevertheless "innately/^ '^ connaturally/' "by their
own weight.'^ And Suarez gives a reason for this (" De
Ultimo Fine/^ d. 3, s. 6^ n. 6). Such an act, he says, is pleasing
to God; and is capable of being referred to Him, even though in
fact not so referred.* This explanation must be carefully borne
in rnind ; because otherwise various theological statements, on
the obligation of referring human acts to God, might be im-
portantly misunderstood. Then — going to another particular —
S. Thomas {e.g. t^ 2^*^ q. 23 a. 7, c.) speaks of virtuousness as
'* vervmi bonum,'^ in contrast with " bonum apparens/' He
-contrasts again '^ bonum incommutabile ""^ with " bonum com-
mutabile :" a matter on which much amplification might be
given, had we the space.

Here, moreover — to avoid serious misconception — we must
carefully consider the particular case of what may be called
" felicifie " possessions. There is a large number of such pos-
sessions, which it is entirely virtuous and may sometimes even
be a duty for me to pursue or desire, not as means to any ulterior
end, but simply as an integral portion of my happiness. f So
theologians speak of " caritas egra nos '' " amor nostri " —
either of which phrases we may translate "self-charity" — as
designating one particular virtue : the virtue of promoting my
•own true happiness. Immeasurably the foremost, among these
possible feliciiic possessions, stands (we need hardly say) my
own permanent happiness, considered as a whole and not as
confmed to its earthly period. But there are very many others
also. Such are, e.g., my permanent earthly happiness ; bodily
health; equable spirits; competent temporal means; happy
family and social relations ; a good reputation among my fellow-
men ; a sufficient supply of recreations and amusements ; intel-
lectual power; poetical taste; sufficient scope for the exercise of
such power and such taste, and generally for what modern
philosophers call "self-development ;'"' &c. &c. Now as regards
all these, except the first, it appertains no doubt to higher perfec-

* See also d. 2, s. 4, n. 5.

t We here use the word " happiness " and its co-relative " felicifie,"
in ^vhat we take to be its ordinary use throughout non-theological
writings. Theologians no doubt — as we shall explain in due course —
use the word "feHcitas" in a fundamentally different sense. But we
jsuppose that, in ordinary parlance, "my own happiness " always means
*' my own sum of enjoyment." 'No doubt the word suggests far more
prominently the higher, more subtle, more mental sources of enjo3^ment,
than those which are lower and more animal ; but the probahle reason
of this is, that cultured persons — who in the last resort fix linguistic
usage — recognise the former class as being indefinitely more pervasive,
permanent, satisfying, than the latter.

d2

36 The Extent of Free Will.

ticn (as Suarez observes"^) that a man desire tbem only so far as
they may be instruments of virtue. Still they may virtuously be
loved and (iC so be) pursued for no ulterior end, but merely as
constituent parts of my happiness, and as the objects of self-
charity. Yet it might appear on the surface that, in pursuing
my own happiness, I cannot conceivably be aiming at any other
end, except that of mere pleasurahleness ; and this is a mis-
conception, which it is important to clear up. A very few
words will enable us to do so.

Let us take, as a particular instance, the blessing of health.
I am lying on my sick-bed in pain of body and depression of
mind. I recognise that I may quite virtuously aim at the
recovery of my health — not merely as a means for more effec-
tually serving God, or more successfully gaining my own
livelihood, or the like, — but simply as an integrating part of my
happiness. Accordingly I pursue this virtuous end of self-
charity. As a matter of conscience, I adopt regularly the pre-
scribed.remedies, however distasteful at the moment ; and I fight
perseveringly against my natural tendency towards availing
myself of those immediate gratifications, which may retard my
recovery. What is my end in such acts ? Precisely the virtuous-
ness which I recognise to exist, in pursuing health as an integral
part of my earthly happiness. I am grievously tempted, for
the gratification of present (negative) pleasurableness, to neglect
my more permanent happiness : and I recognise it as virtuous to
resist such gratification. It is extremely probable indeed that
these acts, directed to virtuousness, will be simultaneously accom-

* In the Foundation of the Exercises " such indiffei"ence of affection
is recommended towards created things not prohibited, as that we should
not rather seek health than sickness, nor prefer a long hfe to a short one.
But at once this objection occurs — viz., that health and life are among
those things, which a man is bound by precei)t to preserve and seek by
such methods as are virtuous and becoming. Consequently [so the objec-
tion proceeds] such indifference is not laudable, as would be exhibited in
not seeking health rather than sickness.

[Eeply.] " The good of life and [again] of health is no doubt among
those things, which may be desired for their own sake ; that is, as being
of themselves suitable to nature and necessary to a certain integrity
thereof, for the sake of which [integrit}'] they are virtuously desired
without relation to any ulterior end. Therefore a man's affections may,
without any sin, not be entirely indifferent concerning those goods con-
sidered in themselves. Nevertheless it appertains to greater perfection,
that we love not these goods except as they are instruments of virtue.
.... And the same thing may be said concerning all those goods which
are such that, though they may be rightly loved for their own sake,
nevertheless a man has it in his power to make a good or bad use of
them. For in regard to virtues — of which a man cannot make a bad
use — such indifference is not laudable." — Suarez, Be Rcllgionc Societatis
Jesu, 1. 9, c. 5, n. 11.

The Extent of Free Will. 37

panied by ether acts, tending to (negative) pleasurableness as
their end; wherein I eagerly desire to be free from all this
suffering and weariness of soul. But this is no more than a
phenomenon, which (as we just now explained) continually occurs
in the case of other virtuous acts, and is by no means confined
to these acts of self-charity. Now, however, take an opposite
picture. In my state of sickness I am a very slave to (negative)
pleasurableness ; I give myself up without restraint to my
present longing for escape from my present anguish; 1 wantonly
retard my recovery, by shrinking from immediate pain; I do
nothing on principle, but everything on impulse. Here certainly
none of my acts are directed to virtuousness, but all to (negative)
pleasurableness. There is this fundamental and most unmistak-
able contrast between the two cases. In the former, the thought
that I act virtuously by aiming at my recovery is constantly
in my mind, prompting me to correspondent action; whereas
in the latter case such thoughts of virtuousness arc only con-
spicuous by their absence. And exactly the same kind of
contrast may be shown, as regards my method of pursuing those
other felicific possessions which admit of being pursued at all.
Moreover, it should not be forgotten, that my desire itself of
a felicific possession may very easily indeed become inordinate
and therefore sinful : as will be explained towards the conclusion
of our article.

IV. We have been speaking of those ends, at which a human
being can aim. It is plain, however, that an end, which has
once been " explicitly ^' intended, may continue vigorously to
influence my will, though it is no longer explicitly in my mind.
When such is the fact, theologians say that it is " virtually ''
pursued. And the fact here noted is of such very pervasive im-
portance in the whole analysis of man's moral action, that we
are most desirous of placing it before our readers as emphatically
and as accurately as we can. Lst us give then such an illustra-
tion as the followinjx. I start for the nei^^hbourino: town on
some charitable mission ; and (as it happens) there are a great
many different turns on my road, which I am quite as much in
the habit of taking, as that particular path which leads me
securely to the town. I have not proceeded more than a very
little way, before my mind becomes so engaged with some
speculative theme, that I entirely lose all explicit remembrance
of the purpose with which I set out. Nevertheless, on each
occasion of choice, I pursue my proper path quite as a matter of
course, and so arrive safely at my journey's end. It is very plain,
then, that my original end has in fact been influencing me
throughout ; for how otherwise can we possibly account for the
fact, that in every single instance I have chosen the one right

38 The Extent of Free Will.

course ? Will you say that my liahit of going' to the town
accounts for it ? Not at all ; because we have supposed that
there is uo one of the alternative paths which I have not been
quite as much in the habit of pursuing as that which leads to-
the town. My original end then has motived my act of walk-
ing quite as truly and effectively, after I have ceased explicitly
to think about that end, as it did when it was most conspicuously
present on the very surface of my mind. But, whereas^ during
the first few minutes of my walk, my pursuit oi' that end was
"explicit^" — during the later period it has been changed from
"explicit" into 'S'irtual."

So much on the word " virtual." Dr. AYalsh, the President
of Maynooth, in his recent work " De Actibus Humanis " (nn.
71-81) j"^ most serviceably recites the various psychological
theories adopted by various Catholic theologians for the elucida-
tion of this term. He thus, however, sums up (n. 81) the con-
clusions on which all are agreed: '^An intention," they say,
" which has previously been elicited, inflows ' virtually' into, the
[subsequent] action, so long as the agent, being sui compos and
acting hamanly — although he be not [explicitly] t thinking of
his previous intention — nevertheless is in such disposition of
mind, that (if asking himself or asked ])y others what he is doing,
and^why) he would at once [supposing him rightly to umlerstand
what passes in his mind] J allege liis previous intention, and
answer: 'I do this for the sake of that.' ^' Elsewhere (n. 669)

* If it he not impertinent for one in our position to express even a
favourable judgment on the labours of such an authority, we would say
how inestimably valuable this volume appears to us. Extremely valuable
for its own sake, when we consider how full it is both of unusual learning
and singularly fresh and independent thought ; but still more valuable,,
as an augury of more extended treatment being hereafter given to the
" De Actibus," than has in recent times been the case. It has always
seemed to us a very unfortunate circumstance, that the " De Actibus "
has of late been exclusively treated as a part of Moral Theology. We
would submit that its dogmatic importance also, as introductory to the-
" De Gratia," is very great. But a result (we think) of the circumstance
to which we are adverting, has been that those portions of the treatise,,
which are not wanted for the Confessional, have been left unduly in the
back-ground.

We hope largely to avail ourselves of Dr. Walsh's labours in what
follows. And we would also do what we can towards drawing attention
to three papers on " Probabilism," from the same writer's pen, which ap-
peared last autumn in the Irish Ecclesiastical Ilccord. We should
venture to describe them as forming quite an epoch in the study of
Moral Theology.

t We add the word " explicitly " because Dr. Walsh avowedly in-
cludes Lugo's theory in his summary ; and Lugo holds that in all such
cases there is implicit thought of the end previously intended.

X We add this qualification on our own responsibility.

The Extent of Free Will. 3,9

Dr. Walsh quotes with approval, from S. Bonaveiiture, an
equally excellent definition. " Acts/' says the Saint, '^are then
said to be 'virtually' referred'' to some end, "when the pre-
ceding intention " of pursuing; that end " is tlie true cause of
those works which are afterwards done."

As to the psychological theories recited by Dr. Walsh — with
very sincere deference to his judgment, we cannot ourselves but
adhere to Lugo's, which he rejects in n. 77. That great theo-
logian holds, that whenever the " virtual" intention of some end
motives my action, an " actual " intention thereof is really
present in my mind, though but implicitly. And we would
submit that the very definition of the word '^ virtual," given by
Dr. Walsh, substantiates the accuracy of this analysis. Take an
instance. I foresee that in half an hour's time I shall very pro-
bably be disappointed of some enjoyment, which I earnestly de-
sire. I well know how grievous is my tendency to lose my
temper under such a trial ; and accordingly I at once resolve to
struggle vigorously against this tendency should the occasion
arrive. This resolve is founded on some given virtuous motive,
or assemblage of virtuous motives ; in order to fix our ideas, let
us suppose that it is founded exclusively on my pondering the
virtuousness oi' patience. The occasion does arrive in due course ;
and my previous explicit intention now " virtually " infxuences
my successful resistance to temptation. It is Lugo's doctrine,
that (supposing such to be the case) my will is 'now influenced
by the virtuousness of patience, no less really and genuinely
than it was half-an-hour ago when I made my holy resolve.
The only difterence (he considers) between the two cases is, that
then I thought of that virtuousness " explicitly," whereas now
I do but think of it '* implicitly." This conclusion seems to us
certainly true ; and we would thus argue in its favour.

Dr. Walsh lays down as the unanimous judgment of theo-
logians, that (in the supposed circumstances) if I ask myself
why I resist the temptation, my true answer will be, "I do
this for the sake of that :" or, in other words, " I resist the
temptation, for the sake of carrying out my previous resolve."
Bat my previous resolve was (by hypothesis) founded exclusively
on the virtuousness of patience ; and therefore my present re-
sistance is founded on the self-same motive. That motive was
then indeed present to my mind explicitly, and now it is present ~
no more than implicitly. But the motive of action in either
case must surely be the very same.

Or, take S. Bonaventure's explanation of the word " virtual."
The preceding resolve, he says, has been '' the true cause " of
my present action. But who will say that my explicit resolve
to practise one given virtue has (wdien occasion arises) been

40 The Extent of Free Will

tlie ^^ true cause'' of my practising, oiot that virtue, but some
other? ^

We do not deny that, according to Lugo's doctrine, a
"virtual^' intention may very frequently motive an act, without
having been preceded by a corresponding ^' explicit ''' intention
at all. But we do not see any difficulty in this conclusion.
And indeed we should point out that, for our own purpose, the
preceding paragraphs have not been strictly necessary. If
indeed we were building on theological statements concerning
"virtual intention,"" it would be strictly necessary to inquire
what theologians onea7i by that term. But our own argument
is logicall}^ untouched, if we simply say that (in what follows)
we ourselves at least shall consistently use the term " virtual
intention,''' as simply synonymous with " implicit/'

We wish we had space to pursue this whole theme of
"virtual" or ''implicit'" intention, at a length worthy of its
pre-eminent importance ; but we must find space for an illustra-
tive instance. Some considerable time ago men of the world
were in the habit of using much indecent language in mutual
conversation : while nevertheless they thought it thoroughly
ungentlemanly so to speak in the presence of ladies. We will
suppose two gentlemen of the period to be talking with each
other, while some lady is in the room, occupied (we will say) in
writing a letter. They are wholly engrossed, so far as they are
themselves aware, v/ith the subject they are upon ; politics, or
the Stock Exchange, or sporting. They are not explicitly
thinking of the lady at all ; and yet, if they are really gentle-
men, her presence exercises on them a most real and practical
influence. It is not that they fall into bad language and then
apologize ; on the contrary, they are so restrained by her presence
that they do not dream of such expressions. Yet, on the other
hand, no one will say that the freedom of their thought and
speech is explicitly perceived by them to be interfered with.
Their careful abstinence then from foul language is due indeed
to an intention actually present in their mind ; the intention,
namely, of not distressing the lady who is present. Yet this
intention is entirely implicit ; and they will not even become
aware of its existence, except by means of careful introspection.
And this, we would submit (if we may here anticipate our
coming argument), is that kind of practical remembrance and
impression concerning God's intimate presence, which it is of
such singular importance that I preserve through the day.
What I need (we say) is a practical remembrance and impression,

* In which of its many senses S. Bonaventure here uses the word
" cause," there is no need to inquire.

i

The Extent of Free Will. 41

which shall really inflow into my thouo'hts and powerfully
influence them ; while nevertheless it shall he altogether implicit,
and shall therefore in no percept ihle degree affect my power of
applying freely and without incumbrance to my various duties
as they successively occur. And this indeed is surely the very
blessing which a Catholic supplicates, when he prays each
morning that '' a pure intention may sanctify his acts of the

But this very prayer itself is sometimes perverted into what
we must really call a mischievous superstition. A certain notion
seems more or less consciously to be in some persons' minds_, of
which it is absolutely necessary to show the entire baselessness,
if we would exhibit a conspectus of man^s moral action with any
kind of intellicjibleness and availableness. The Catholic is tau"ht
to pray in the morning that a pure intention may sanctify his
actions of the day as they successively take place. But a notion
seems here and there to exist, that these successive actions have
already been sanctifled hy anticipation, in his morning oblation
of them. This strange notion assumes two diiferent shapes,
and issues accordin^rly in one or other of two importantly distinct
tenets. One of these tenets we will at once proceed to consider ;
while the other will And a fit place for discussion a few pages
further on.

Some persons then have apparently brought themselves to
think, that if in the morning I offer to God all my future acts
of the da}', I therebjr secure beforehand the virtuousness of all
those which are not actually evil in object or circumstance. I
secure this virtuousness, they think, because by my morning^s
good intention I secure, that the same good intention shall
virtually motive themi when they actually occur. But, as Billuart
demands (Walsh, n. 668), "if any one, who has in the morning
offered his acts to God, be afterwards asked (when he is dining
■or walking) for what reason he dines or walks, who will say
that such a man can truly answer, ' I am doing so in virtue of
my intention made this morning. '^ And the following passage
from r. Nepveu, S.J., is so admirably clear on the subject, that
we can add nothing of our own to its unanswerable argument : —

When this intention is so far removed from the time of action as
happens if one is contented with offering one's actions in the morning,
there is reason for fear that this intention will gradually become fainter
and even come entirely to an end , . . . so that it shall not ivfiow at
all into the action. Moreover — since we have a profound depth of
self-love — unless we bestow great attention on ourselves and much
vigilance on all our [interior] movements, it is difhcult to prevent the
result, that there escape from us a thousand .... movements of
vanity ; sensuality ; desire to please mankind and ourselves ; in fact

42 The Extent of Free Will.

a thousand human respects ; which are so man?/ retractations of our
morning intention, and therefore destroy it entirely. — L'esprit de
Christianisme, pp. 95, 96.

V. In order that some given act be virtuous, theologians
commonly require that its virtuousness be directly intended ;
though such intention of course need be no more than '' virtual."
Dr. Walsh says (n. 397) that this proposition is maintained by
all theologians except a very \'q\y (paucissimos) ; and its truth
is most manifest on grounds of reason. Take an illustration.
I am very desirous (for some special purpose) of conciliating the
favour of my rich neighbour A. B. Among other things which
I do to please him, I repay him a small sum he had lent me ;
and I make him a present of some picture, to which he took
a fancy when he was paying me a visit. My one motive for both
these acts is precisely the same — viz., my desire to be in his
good books. Suppose it were said that — v/hereas the second
of these two acts may be indifferent — the first at all events is
virtuous under the head of justice, because the repayment of a
debt is an act of that virtue : every one would see that such a
statement is the climax of absurdity.

On the other hand (as Dr. Walsh proceeds to point out) it is-
by no means requisite — in order to the virtuousness of an act —
that its virtuousness be at the moment the absolute end of my
action. Suppose I give alms to the deserving poor, in order
that I may gain a heavenly reward. Here the virtuousness of
almsgiving is directly intended ; for it is that very virtuousness,.
which is my means towards my retribution : yet this virtuous-
ness is (by hypothesis) desired only as a means, and not as the
absolute end of my action. Most persons will at once admit,
that such an act is a truly virtuous act of almsgiving. On the
other hand suppose I give alms, merely in order that my outward
act may become known and help me to a seat in Parliament —
it would be (as we have said) the climax of absurdity to allege
that my act of almsgiving is virtuous as such.

There is one class of actions however, which claims further
attention. Suppose I do some act entirely for the sake of
pleasurableness ; but, before doing it, I carefully ponder v/hether
the act be a morally lawful one, being resolved otherwise to-
abstain therefrom. Dr. Walsh (n. C23) refers to this case, and.
quotes Viva on it; but we do not think that Viva quite does
justice to such an act as he supposes. He holds that such an act
is neither virtuous nor sinful, but indifferent. We think he
would have been much nearer the truth, had he said that it is
virtuous. But the true account of the matter (we think) is as
follows. In this, as ir. so many other cases, the wilFs move-
ment may be decomposed into two simultaneous acts. One of

The Extent of Free Will. 43.

these acts is; "I would not do wliat I am doing-^ were it opposed
to morality 'J' and this is obviously; most virtuous. As to the
other act — the mere pursuit of pleasurableness — under such
circumstances^ we submit, it is neither virtuous nor sinful, but
indifferent.

This will be our appropriate place for considering the second
tenet, concerning the matutinal oblation of my day^s acts, to
which we have already referred. According to the first tenet
on this subject — the tenet which we have already criticized — ■
this obligation secures the result, that my morning intention
shall really motive all my subsequent acts of the day, one by one,
which are not actually evil in object or circumstances. This is
to be sure a most singular notion ; but some persons seem to
hold another, indefinitely more amazing. They seem to hold,
that even though the morning intention do not in fact
motive these acts, nevertheless it makes them intrinsically
virtuous. This allegation seems to us so transparently unreason-
able, that we feel a real perplexity in divining, how any one
even of the most ordinary thoughtfulness can have dreamed of
accepting it. AVe quite understand that God, by His free
appointment, may bestow gifts upon a human being, in con-
sideration of what is not virtuous in him at all; as, e.g., in an
infant's reception of Baptism, or the Martyrdom of the Holy
Innocents. And we understand the doctrine, held (we fancy)
by many Protestants, that some act, not intrinsically virtuous,
is often extrinsically acceptable to God. But we really do not
see how it is less than a contradiction in terms to say, that a
given act is made intrinsically virtuous, by a certain circumstance
which is no intrinsic part of it whatever. Yesterday afternoon
I elicited a certain act ; and this afternoon I elicit another,
v/hich is precisely similar to yesterday's in every single intrinsic-
circumstance without exception. Yet the act of yesterday
afternoon forsooth was virtuous, whereas the act of this afternoon
is otherwise ; because yesterday raorning I made an oblation of
my day^s acts, and this morning I made no such oblation.
You may as well say that my evening cup of tea is sweet, because
I put a lump of sugar into the cup which I drank at breakfast-
Lugo gives expression to this self-evident principle, by taking
the particular case of temperance at meals. You and I are both
at dinner ; our will is directed (suppose) in precisely the same
way to precisely the same ends ; and our external acts also are
precisely similar. Yet it shall be judged that you are eating
virtuously and I otherwise, because in the morning you referred
your acts to God and I did not. No doubt your morning'' &
oblation may have giv^en you great assistance in making your
present act intrinsically virtuous, by facilitating your present

44 The Extent of Free Will.

reference of that act to a good end. Bat the act is intrinsicallv"
affected by what is intrinsic_, not by what is extrinsic. And so
Lugo points out ; assuming the theological principle, that no
act is meritorious which is not intrinsically virtuous. " He who
in the morning refers all his acts to God — if afterwards, when
he is at dinner, is in just the same state of mind as though he
had not elicited that matutinal intention, and if his action of
eating does not arise from that matutinal intention or from some
other good and virtuous one — that man no more merits through
his present act, than he would if he had never formed such pre-
ceding intention if at all/' C' De PenitentijV d. 7, n. ;39.)
Sporer states the same proposition very earnestly and em-
phatically ; adding, that such is the common doctrine of
theologians. He does not mention indeed so much as one on
the opposite side. (" De Actibus," n. 22.)

On this profoundly practical doctrine, we cannot better con-
clude our remarks than by citing the noble passage from Aguirre,
with which Dr. Walsh concludes his volume (nn. 69U-692.) It
refers however — as our readers will observe — not to a virtuous
intention generally, but to that particular virtuous intention
which motives an act of sovereign love.

Wherefore before all things I admonish — and entreat all theologians
to inculcate and preach as a most "wholesome doctrine — that each
man endeavour, with the whole earnestness and fervour of his mind,
to practise continuously and assiduously (so far as this fragile and
mortal life permits) the exercise of referring explicitly himself and
all his thougiits, alTections, words, and works to God, loved for His
own sake. For he should not be content if once or [even] at various
times in the day he do this ; but he ought frequently to insert
[explicitly into his daily life] that sacrifice of mind, which is far
more acceptable to God than all other homages in the matter of the
moral virtues.

YI. Passing now to another matter — how are we to measure
the degree of virtuousness or sinfulness, in virtuous and sinful
acts respectively ? It is evident that this consideration must
proceed, in the two respective cases, on principles fundamentally
different: for in a virtuous act its virtuousness must of necessity
be directly intended; whereas in a sinful act its sinfulness cannot
by possibility be intended at all as an absolute end. We will
take the two classes therefore separately.

As to virtuous acts — it is held (we suppose) by all theologians
that, cccteris 2)ccrihus, an act is more virtuous, in proportion as
it is directed to virtuousness with greater vigour and efficacity.*

* Yv^e find it somewhat hard to find out in what sense theologians use
the word "intensio." Do they use it to express "vigour," efficacity "?
or do they rather use it to express "effort"? The two ideas arc very

The Extent of Free Will. 45

We have said '^ CDeteris paribus/^ because one kind of vlrtuous-
ness may be higher than another. A comparatively remiss act,
e.g., of sovereign love (being really such) may be more virtuous
than a far more vigorous act of some particular virtue ; of justice,
or temperance, or beneficence.

As regards the degree of evil in evil acts — we incline to think
that theologians have given far too little methodical attention to
the subject. For ourselves, we submit that any given act is
more morally evil, in proportion as its pursuit of pleasurableness
is more inordinate ; more morally unprincipled, if we may so
speak ; in proportion as the act is more widely removed from
subjection to Grod''ri AYill and the Rule of Morals; in proportion
as the transgressions of God's Law are more grievous, which
such an act would (on occasion) command. In proportion as this
is the case, its agent is said to ''place his ultimate end in
creatures^'' more unreservedly and more sinfully. However, to
set forth in detail — still more to defend — what we have stated,
would carry us a great deal too far.^

But, at last is it true, that all acts are either virtuous or the
reverse? In other words, are there, or are there not, individual
acts, which are neither morally good nor bad, but "indifferent ''?
This is the famous controversy between. Thomists and Scotists,
which Dr. Walsh (nn. 588-67o) treats with quite singular com-
pleteness and candour ; insomuch that his whole discussion pre-
sents (to our mind) one of the most profoundly interesting studies
we ever fell in with. He has established (we think) quite
triumphantly, that acts may be directed to pleasurableness as to
their absolute end, without being on that account sinful. AVe
will briefly express our own opinion on the whole matter, by
submitting, (1 ) that very many acts are directed to pleasurableness
as to their absolute end, yet without any vestige or shadow of

distinct. Consider, e.g., a tlow, possessing some certain fixed degree of
intrinsic force or efficacity ; just sufficient (let ns say) to overcome a
certain definite obstacle. A very strong man Avill deal forth such a blow
without any " effort " or trouble whatever. A weaker man must put
forth some exertion for the purpose. A still weaker must exert his whole
strength. A child, even if he does exert his whole strength, finds himself
nnabie to accompHsh it. In like manner two different acts, elicited by
tv/o different persons, may be directed to some given virtuous end with
approximately equal " firmness," " tenacity," " vigour," " efficacity ;" and
yet one may cost the agent quite immeasurably more " effort" than the
other. Is it "vigour" "efficacity" — or on the other hand "effort" —
which theologians call " intensio ?" We incline to think that commonly
— yet not quite universally — they use the word in this latter sense. But
we should be very glad of light on the subject from some competent
quarter.

* Something more, however, is said on the subject towards the end of
our article.

46 The Extent of Free Will.

inordination ; and (2) that though such acts are commonly not
virtuous, there is no ground whatever for accounting them
sinCiil."^

VII. Here, in order to prevent possible confusion of thought,
it will be better to recapitulate four propositions, among those
Avhich we have been adv^ocating iu the course of our article.

(1) By the very constitution of man's nature, every act of the
human will is by absolute necessity, during its whole continu-
.ance, intrinsically directed (whether explicitly or virtually) to
virtuousness, or to pleasurableness, or to some intermixture of the
two, as to its absolute end. But it may pursue of course inter-
mediate ends, as '^ useful " towards those ends which are absolute.

(2) No act is virtuous unless it directly aims at virtuousness
as such ; and of course therefore it remains virtuous, only so long

* We cannot, "however, follow Dr. Walsh in his view (nn. 674-688) of
S, Thomas's doctrine on this subject. He considers S. Thomas to teach
(see n. 675) that acts may be actually virtuous and referable to God,
which are not directed to virtuousness as such. For our ovvn part we
altogether agree with F. Murphy of Carlow College — who contributes to
the Irish Ecclesiastical Record of Dec. 16, 1880, a very appreciative
review of Dr. Walsh's volume — that the latter writer "has not estabhshed
his view of S. Thomas's teaching." " In nearly every one of the passages
cited," adds F. Murph}?-, " or in the immediate context, S. Thomas most
distinctly mentions ends which every Thomist would denominate good."
This remark does not indeed apply to all the passages cited by Dr.
Walsh in n. 683, note, where the Angelic Doctor describes virtue as con-
sisting in a mean. But as regards all these passages, without exception,
we submit that S. Thomas is quite manifestly siqjposlng throughout a
real aim at virtuousness on the agent's part. " I am desiring to pursue
the course of virtue ; and I inquire therefore (in this or that individual
•case) what is the true mean wherein virtue consists." For ourselves — -
with very great deference to Dr. Walsh — the only passages which we can
consider to need any special attention, are the two from the " De Malo,"
cited in nn. 686, 687. On these passages we would submit the following
reply to Dr. Walsh's argument.

F. Mazzella has considered them (along with several others from S.
Thomas) in his important volume " De Yirtutibus Infusis," n. 1350 ; and
he by no means understands them as Dr. Walsh does. According to Dr.
Walsh, S. Thomas teaches in them (1) that an act, not directed to
virtuousness as such, may nevertheless be free from inordination and
referable to God; then (2) that such an act, if elicited by one in
habitual grace, is meritorious of supernatural reward. According to
F. Mazzella — what S. Thomas teaches is, that an act (otherwise faultless)
— which is directed indeed to impersonal virtuousness (hommi honestum)
as its end, but which is neither explicitly nor virtually referred to God
— that such an act (if elicited by one in a state of grace) is meritorious of
supernatural reward. Now this latter doctrine may or may not be theo-
logically true; it may or may not be S. Thomas's ordinary doctrine ; but
at all events it is fundamentally different from that which Dr. Walsh
ascribes to the Angelic Doctor, and is entirely unexceptionable so far as
regards any ground of natural reason. And we submit that, without
travelling one step beyond the two articles to which Dr. Walsh refers.

The Extent of Free Will. 47

.as that aim continues. But such aim need not be explicit :
sufficient if it be virtual.

(3) Acts which are explicitly or virtually directed to pleasur-
ableness as to their absolute end^ are either *•' inordinate "'■' or not.
If they are, they are sinful ; if they are not — and if they are not
otherwise faulty in object or circumstances — they are commonly
indifferent."

(t) The morning oblation of my acts to God is a most
auspicious and effective commencement of a well-spent day. It
is the first link of a potentially continuous chain ; and most
powerfully tends to effect that those acts be successively directed
to virtuousness^ when they come to be elicited in due course.
But if an act be not in fact so directed_, all tlie morning oblations
in the world cannot suffice to make it virtuous. Nay, if I offer
my acts to God every hour of every day, such oblation could not

we can establish conclusively the correctness of F. Mazzella's interpreta-
tion. We turn then to the earlier article of the two : " De Malo," q. 2,
a. 5, c. We italicise a few words.

" If we speak of an individual moral act," says S, Thomas, " every
particular moral act is of necessity either good or bad, because of some
circumstance or other. For it cannot happen that an individual act be
done without circumstances, which make it either right or wrong {rectum
vel indircdum). For if anything be done when it should (oportet),
and where it should, and as it should, such an act is ordinate and good ;
but if any one of these fail, the act is inordinate and bad. And this
should most of all be considered in the circumstance of the end. For what
is done because o^ just necessity and pious utility, is done laudably, and
the act is good. But what is destitute of just necessity and pious utility
is accounted * otiose,' .... and an ' otiose ' word — much more an
'otiose' act — is a sin" according to Matt. xii. 36.

Nothing then can well be more express than S. Thomas's statement,
that every act, not directed to a virtuous end, is " inordinate " and " a
sin." We have already said in the text, that we cannot ourselves here
follow the Angelic Doctor, because we admit a very large numbar of
indifferent individual acts. But S. Thomas's meaning is surely indis-
putable. No doubt, later theologians would say, that acts done for the
sake of impersonal virtuonsness are " innately," " connaturally," " by their
own weight," referred to God ; whereas S. Thomas speaks of them as
not referred to God at all. But F. Mazzella points out (n. 1350) that
S. Thomas and many others of the older theologians were not in the
habit of using the more modern language on this head. And of course it
is nothing more than a question of language.

We hope our readers will pardon this digression. The question is a
vitally practical one ; and it is of much importance clearly to understand
what is S. Thomas's doctrine thereon.

* We say " commonly " because we wish to avoid the speculative con-
troversy, whether an act can be virtuous, which is directed indeed to
virtuonsness as to an intermediate end, but to mere pleas urableness as to
its absolute end. The exact meaning we give to the word "inordinate,"
is exj^lained towards the end of our article. And we there also treat of
two certain condemned propositions, not unfrequently alleged in con-
troversy against the doctrine which we follow.

48 The Extent of Free JVill.

infallibly secure that my acts be virtuous during- the interval.
That my iict of eleven o'clock is offered to God, does not infallibly
secure that my act of ten minutes past eleven be intrinsically
directed to virtuousness ; and if it be not so directed, it is not
virtuous.

VIIT. This will be our most convenient place for exhibiting
the well-known distinction between " Liberty of exercise ^' and
" Liberty of specilication.^' I do not at this m.oment possess Free
Will at all, if I do not possess at least the power of acting or
abstaining from action as I shall please.'^ If I have so much
power of choice as this and no more, I have at least " Liberty of
exercise." But as regards the very f^reat majority of my free
acts, I do possess more power than this. I possess the power —
not only of either actin<j^ or abstaining from action — but of act-
ing in this or that given direction as I shall please. We have
deferred to this place our notice of the fundamental distinction
here set forth, because by far its best illustration will be found
in what now follows.

IX. All Catholic theologians and philosophers hold, that the
thought of '^ beatitude " and again of " generic goodness [honum
in communi] *' imposes on the will necessity of sioecijica.tion.
Whether on the other hand such thought do or do not impose
necessity of exercise, this is disputed ; and Suarez for one
answers in the negative. (See, e.g.y '^Metaph.," d. 19^ s. 5.) Eut it
is very important carefully to examine the true signification of
that common dictum, on which all are agreed ; because it has at
times (we think) been mischievously misunderstood. Firstly
then as to beatitude.

Let us suppose that an imaginary state of privilege be proposed
to me as possible, in which on the one hand I shall enjoy a very
large amount of mental and physical enjoyment : while on the
other hand I shall be entirely free from suffering of every kind;
in which accordingly there shall be absolutely no pain of un-
gratified wish, or of remorse, or of self-discontent. But let us
further suppose that this state of privilege should involve no
exemption from sin ; that I should be involved in habits of
pride, vain-glory, sensuality, and indeed general indifference to
God's will. We are not here meaning for an instant to imply
that such a state of privilege is possible, consistently with the
constitution of human nature ; or again consistently with God's
methods of government : but still the supposition contains no
contradiction in terms, and may therefore intelligibly be made.
Would the thought of such a privilege as this impose on my will

* So in the well-known Catholic definition, "protest agere et ncn

ar/cyc.'"

The Extent of Free Will, 49

necessity of specification ? God forbid ! Manifestly I have
abundant proximate power to elicit an act, whereby I shall
repudiate and detest such a possible prospect ; and I am bound
indeed by strict obligation to abstain from all complacency in
the thought of it.

On the other hand, let an imaginary state of privilege be pro-
posed to me as possible, in which I shall be exempt, not only
from sin, but from all moral imperfection ; in which I shall elicit
continuous and vigorous acts of theological and other virtues ;
but in which nevertheless I shall be a victim to severe continuous
suffering, both mental and physical. No one will doubt that I
have full power (to say the least) of earnestly deprecating such a
future.

But now, lastly, let us suppose that an imaginary state of
privilege is proposed to me as possible, in which secure provision
shall be made both for unmixed virtuousness and unmixed
pleasurableness ; in which there shall neither be moral imper-
fection, nor yet pain and suffering. Such a state of privilege
would be termed by Catholic theologians a state of " beatitude,^'
in the widest range they give to that term. We may call it
'^ generic^'' beatitude ; and it is distinguished from more definite
beatitudes, as the genus is distinguished from the species. Thus
there is a certain definite beatitude, which God has proposed to
mankind in raising them to the supernatural order : this is
" supernatural " Beatitude, and its special characteristic is the
Beatific Vision. There is another definite beatitude, which God
would have proposed to mankind had he left them in the state
of pure nature : see Franzelin on '^ Reason and Faith,'' c. 3, s. 4.
There is again perhaps another, which will be enjoyed by
the souls in Limbus. But these, and any further number of
more definite beatitudes, are but different cases of that beatitude
which we have called '^ generic.''^ It is plain moreover that all
these several beatitudes agree with each other in their negative
characteristic — viz., that they exclude all moral imperfection and
all suffering : whereas they may differ indefinitely on the positive
side, as regards the kind or degree of virtuousness and pleasurable-
ness which they respectively contain."^ But it is on generic
beatitude, and not on any of these particular beatitudes, that we
are here principally to speak.

* We need hardly remind our readers, that, even within each one of
these more definite beatitudes, there is a large inequality of individual
endowment. One person in heaven e.g. enjoys indefinitely more of
supernatural Beatitude than another.

But it is remarkable, as a matter of theological expression, that the
soul of Christ — notwithstanding its unspeakable suffering — is always
spoken of as having been " Beata " from the very moment of its creation,
on account of its possessing the Beatific Vidon. Anl this circumstance

VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Thirl Series. ] e

50 The Extent of Free Will.

We say, then, in accordance with all Catholic theologians and
philosophers, that the thought of generic beatitude imposes on
my will necessity of specification. A mementos consideration
will show the obvious certainty of this truth. If — when think-
ing of beatitude — I am not under necessity of specification, I
have the power of preferring to it some other object. But what
can such object possibly be ? By the very constitution of my
nature I am physically unable to pursue or- desire any absolute
end, except only virtuousness and pleasurableness ; while both
virtuousness and pleasurableness are included in beatitude, with-
out any admixture whatever of their contraries. There is much
then in the thought of that privilege to attract me, and absolutely
nothing to repel me. It may be objected indeed, that the
thought of virtuousness is repulsive to many persons, because
they have learned to associate it with the thought of irksome-
ness. But those who are thus minded, are not really con-
templating beatitude at all : they are not contemplating a state,
from which all irksomeness is as stringently excluded as all sin.

A similar objection indeed may be put in a much stronger
shape, but answered at once on the same identical principle. It
may be said that the thought of Supernatural Beatitude itself is
very far from imposing on men^s will necessity of specification.
There are many excellent Catholics, who entirely take for granted
indeed that the Beatitude of heaven is one of unspeakable
delight ; and who yet, as regards their own conception of that
Beatitude, would vastly prefer some happiness more nearly
resembling their earthly enjoyments. Nay it may perhaps even
he said that, excepting eternal punishment itself, few imagin-
able prospects of a future life would be more formidable to them,
than the promised heaven as invested with that shape in which
their imagination depicts it : so intimately does their imagina-
tion associate the thought of continually gazing on God, with
the notion of something dreary, weary, monotonous. Such men
are most assuredly under no necessity of specification, in the
desire (as they exhibit it) of future beatitude. But then this is
only because their picture of that beatitude fundamentally
differs from its oric^inal : because their intellect and ima^^ination
fail adequately to realize, how peremptorily the Beatific Vision
will exclude the most distant approximation to dreariness,
weariness, monotony. This case therefore presents no difficulty

indeed furnishes another instance of the fact on which we are especially
insisting — viz., that the theological term "beatitude " is very far indeed
from synonymous with the EngHsh word " happiness " as commonly
used. The sense ordinarily given by theologians to the term " beatitude "
is— we submit with much confidence— substantially identical with that
exhibited in our text.

The Extent of Free Will. 51

whatever, even on the surface, in the way of our accepting the
theological statement, that the thought of true beatitude — super-
natural or natural — imposes on my will necessity of specification.
A more plausible objection however to that statement is the
following.

Beatitude — so the objector may • urge — ^is presented to my
mind in a certain concrete shape ; and I may easily enough
desire greater virtuousness or greater pleasurableness, than
happens to be be included in that presentation. To this objec-
tion, however, also the reply is not far to seek. (1) I do not
the less desire beatitude in the very shape in which it is pre-
sented to my intellect, because I also desire something more.
And (2) that "something more" is not something different
from beatitude ; but beatitude itself in higher kind or greater
degree. We need hardly add, that those who shall be in the
actual enjoyment of beatitude, will necessarily be preserved from
all emotions of discontent or repining.

Suarez, however, and some other theologians, add that the
thought of beatitude does not impose on my will necessity of
exercise. "When that thought presents itself, I am free to abstain
(they think) from deliberately eliciting any correspondent act of
will whatever. But we need not enter on this controversy,
which is of most insignificant importance.

So much on "beatitude;'-' and very little more need be added
on the similar term "generic goodness.'^ Goodness — in the
sense here relevant — is simply " that which is able to attract
the human will ;" " that which can be made an end of human
action or desire." Goodness therefore (as has already been ex-
plained) is exhaustively divided into (1) "virtuousness;" (2)
"pleasurableness;" (3) "utility" towards either of the two
former ends. But this fact — though otherwise of great import-
ance— is entirely beside the present question, and need not here
be taken into account. Our argument is simply this. If it were
true that the thought of generic goodness does not impose on
my will necessity of specification, this statement would precisely
mean, that I have the power to pursue or desire some other end,
in preference to pursuing or desiring goodness. But this sup-
position is a direct contradiction in terms ; because " goodness,"
by its very definition, includes every end which man is able to
pursue or desire. The thought then of " generic goodness" may
or may not impose on my acts necessity of exercise ; but most
certainly does impose on them necessity of specification.

X. We are thus led to consider a common theological state-
ment, than which hardly any other perhaps in the whole science-
needs more careful examination and discrimination. Words are
often used by the greatest theologians^ which seem on the surface

b2

52 The Extent of Free Will

to mean (1) that the thought of '^ felicity '' imposes on the will
of all men necessity of specification ; nay (2) further, that what-
ever else they desire, they desire only as a "means to felicity ; (3)
lastly (and most amazingly of all) that this is a truth quite
obvious on the surface of human nature. Now if such language
as this be understood in the sense it may well present to an
ordinary reader, we should say for our own part that such a
doctrine, concerning man's desire of felicity, might with far
greater plausibility be called self-evidently false than self-
evidently true. Is it self-evidently impossible then, that even
in the smallest matter I can prefer virtuousness to happiness,
if I suppose the two to clash ? Is it self-evidently impossible
that I can obey God because of His just claims on me, without
thinking of my own felicity at all ? Is it self-evidently im-
possible, that I can act justly to others, except as a means to my
own enjoyment ? Is every sinner under the impression that sin
is his best road to happiness ? Or, in other words, is every
sinner necessarily an implicit heretic? But we need not pursue
the picture into further details. We may be very certain that
this is not what can have been meant by theologians. Our pur-
pose here is to explain what they intend by language which
admits of such gross misapprehension.*

Firstly then we would point out, that the word " felicity " is
always used in theology as synonymous with '^beatitude ;^^
and that thus its sense is importantly different from that of the
English word " happiness,'^ as commonly used. This latter
word (as we have already incidentally pointed out) commonly
expresses "my sum of enjoyment/' quite distinctly from the
question of virtuousness or sin. But S. Thomas, e.g.^ defines
'^ beatitude " as " perfect and sufl&cing good '' (P 2*^^ q. 5, a.
3, c.) : would he describe happiness, irrespective of virtuousness,
as " perfect and sufficing good '^ ? In the very next article
indeed he expressly answers this question; for he says that
"felicity'' on earth (so far as it can be attained) ^'principally
consists in virtuous action [in actu virtutis] .''' Other theo-
logians speak similarly. Arriaga, e.g., divides " felicity '^ into
'' moral" and " physical :'' the former signifying virtuousness,
and the latter enjoyment (^'De Beatitudine Naturali,'' n. 27).
Theologians then do not say that man's motive of action is always
desire of his own happiness. At the utmost they say no more,
than that it is always desire of his own beatitude — i.e., desire of
a certain complex blessing — which includes the virtuous no less
than the pleasurable.

* On what seems to us the true doctrine concerning men's desire of
happiness — and again on their obligation of pursuing that happiness —
we would refer to Dr. Ward's "Philosophical Introduction," pp. 402-423.

The Extent of Free Will. 53

These remarks, however, of themselves by no means meet the
full difficulty of the case. For a very large number of the
greatest theologians say, not only that the thought of beatitude
imposes on my will necessity of specification, but also that my
desire of beatitude is the one primary source of all my actions.
Yet — objectors will ask on hearing sucli a statement — can
this be maintained ? Is it really true that all human acts are
motived by desire of beatitude ? The impure man indulges in
forbidden pleasure ; the envious or malevolent man rejoices in
his neighbour's suffering ; the irreligious man detests God's Law,
as imposing on him an intolerable yoke. Is it really true that
these three men first form to themselves a picture of beatitude
in any sense of that term; and that their respective sins are
motived by their desire of such beatitude? Or even in the case
of a good man, is it really true that every act of grateful loyalty
to his Redeemer, of obedience to his Creator, of zeal for the
salvation of souls, is preceded (either explicitly or implicitly) by
a mental picture of his own beatitude ? To all these questions
we reply, that no such inferences are necessarily involved in the
theological dictum, that "men do everything for the sake of
beatitude/^ A large number of the greatest theologians interpret
the dictum as simply meaning this : "■ Every one of my acts,"
they say, '' is directed to the attainment of some good or other,
be it virtuous or pleasurable. But the sum of all such good con-
stitutes beatitude : therefore every one of my acts is interpre-
tatively referred to beatitude, because it is actually referred to a
solid portion thereof. ^''^

We conclude, that there is no one absolute end whatever of
all human action ; but on the contrary that as many absolute
ends are possible, as there are possible exhibitions whether of
the virtuous or the pleasurable. No doubt God is hy right my
one exclusive Ultimate End ; or, in other words, I act more
perfectly, in proportion as I come nearer to a state in which all
my acts are ultimately referred to Him, whether explicitly,
virtually, or connaturally. (On the last adverb see our preceding
n. III.) But, as a matter of fact, it need hardly be said that
the number of human actions is enormously great, which are
motived quite otherwise.

XI. We now arrive at the last of our necessary preliminaries.
Those acts on which our argument will principally turn, are those
which are " perfectly voluntary.'^ Here, therefore, we must ex-
plain what we mean by " perfectly voluntary.'" Two conditions
are necessary, in order that an act may have that attribute. The

* Dr. "Ward, in his "Philosophical Introduction" (pp. 410-415), quotes
passages to this effect from Suarez, Vasquez, Yiva : but he might have
added indefinitely to the number of his authors.

64 The Extent of Free Will.

will must be in a certain given state ; and the act itself must
possess certain given characteristics. We will consider succes-
sively these two conditions.

Firstly then, the will must be in a certain given state. It
must be " sui compos ;'' or (as we may translate the expression)
*' self-masterful." This condition is so familiar to the experience
of allj that a certain general description of it will amply suffice.
We may say then that my will at this moment is " self-master-
ful/-' if I possess the proximate power of regulating my conduct
by steady and unimpassioned resolve. This condition is, of course,
unfulfilled, if I am asleep ; or intoxicated ; or in a swoon ; or
otherwise insensible. Or (2) so violent a storm of emotion may
be sweeping over my soul, that I have no proximate power to
prevent this emotion from peremptorily determining^ my conduct.
Or (3) I may be in what may be called a state of invincible
reverie ; I may be so absorbed in some train of reflection, that
nothing can disturb my insensibility to external objects, except
some (as it were) external explosion. During such periods, my
will entirely fails of being " self-masterful.^^ At other periods
again, it may fail of being entirely '^ self- masterful :^^ I may be
half asleep ; or half intoxicated ; or my emotions or my reverie
may leave me no more than a most partial and imperfect power,
of proximately regulating my conduct by steady and unim-
passioned resolve. All this is so clear, that we need add nothing
further thereon.

But it is of great importance to our direct theme, that we
set forth systematically how fundamental is the distinction in
idea, between my will being ^^ self-masterful," and being " free."
Nothing is more easily conceivable, than that at the moment I
have on one hand full proximate power of regulating my conduct
by steady and unimpassioned resolve ; while yet on the other
hand that this resolve (should I form it) be inevitably determined
for me, by what a Determinist would call " the relative strength
of motives." In fact, Determinists hold just as strongly as
Libertarians, the broad and momentous distinction of idea
which exists, between the will being " free '^ on one hand, and
on the other hand no more than ^' self-masterful.'^

Here then is the first condition necessary, in order that my
act be "perfectly voluntary :" my will must at the moment be
entirely "self-masterful."' On the other hand, when we say
that some given act is " perfectly voluntary,^' we mean that
it is (1) "explicit;^' and (2) (what we will here call) "mature.''*

* We do not forget that some theologians use the phrase " perfectly
voluntary " as synonymous with " free." But we think our own sense of
the term is much the commoner, and also much more appropriate and
convenient.

The Extent of Free Will 55

Let us consider these two elements successively. The latter is
very easily explained; but the former will need our careful
attention.

In order to make clear what is meant by " explicit '^ acts — and
again by " explicit ^' thoughts — our best plan will be to pursue
a course somewhat resembling that (see our preceding n. IV.)
whereby Dr. Walsh explains what is meant by " virtual.^' If
we ask any given man what he is doing at any given moment,
he will pretty certainly be ready with an answer. '' I am
conning my brief for to-morrow's sitting/^ says the lawyer. ^' I
am trying a new kind of steam-plough," says the farmer. "I
am pursuing the fox/^ says the sportsman. '' I am standing in
expectance of buyers," says the shopman. '^I am watching this
furnace/^ says the stoker. '•' I am attending to my opponent's
speech, that I may answer it/' says the M.P. " I am driving
down to my man of business,^' says the country gentleman.
And so on indefinitely. In all these cases, of course, there may
be other acts of will or intellect simultaneously proceeding; but
the prompt answer given to our question shows (to use a very
intelligible expression) what is on the surface of each man's
mind. Now an '^ expUcit " act means precisely an act '^ which
is on the surface of my mind."

For the sake of illustration, let us pursue the last instance
which we gave. I am driving down to my man of business.
This may most properly be called an '^ act,'' because it began
with an order I gave to my coachman, which I can revoke at
iiny moment. As I proceed, I look dreamily from my carriage
window at the various objects which present themselves; these
objects summon up an indefinite number of associations, in
regard both to the present and the past; silent processes of
thought ensue, and an ever-varying current of emotion ; acts of
repentance ; of yearning ; of complacency ; of grief ; of anxiety ;
follow each other in rapid succession. Still no one of these so
rises to the surface of my thoughts, that it would furnish my
spontaneous answer to a friend who should ask me what is my
present employment. By careful mental analysis I may observe
a very large number of the thoughts, emotions, volitions, which
are peopling my mind ; but still none of these thoughts, emo-
tions, volitions, furnish spontaneously my reply to the proposed
question. They are mental phenomena, of which I am truly
"conscious" indeed; but which, nevertheless, are '^implicit''
phenomena.

On the other hand my mental procedure may be quite diiferent
from this. As I drive along, I concentrate my energies on the
examination of some scientific problem ; on pressing various data
to their legitimate conclusion ; on harmonizing the various

56 The Extent of Free Will.

truths which I have already acqiured. Under these circum-
stances, if I were asked what is my present employment, I should
spontaneously answer that I am occupied in this scientific investi-
gation. This scientific investigation then is my '' explicit '■' act ;
and my carriage drive has sunk into the position of " implicitness/'
Or it may be again, that both acts are on the surface of my mind
and explicit ; so that my spontaneous answer to the question —
'^ what is my present employment" ? — would enumerate both of
the two. And what we have said on this particular instance, is
applicable to ten thousand other cases, in which one or two
*' explicit " acts may be accompanied by an indefinite number of
" implicit ^' thoughts or acts simultaneously proceeding.

But it is not only that the explicit act is often accompanied
by implicit acts or thoughts : one important element of the ex-
plicit act itself — we refer to its end or motive — is much more
commonly implicit. Go back to our barrister studying his brief.
What is the animating motive which impels him to this labour ?
Perhaps he is merely prompted by that virtuousness or pleasure-
ableness or union of the two, which he recognizes in the due
performance of his routine duties. Perhaps he is stimulated by
prospects of ambition ; by the thought of rising to fame and
eminence. Perhaps he is aiming at the due permanent support
of wife and children. Perhaps again these various ends are
simultaneously (in whatever proportion) inflowing into his
work. Lastly, if he is a devout and interior Christian, the
thought of God's approval may probably enough supply his
absolute end of action ; though various intermediate links con-
duce to this absolute end. But whatever be the absolute end
which he is effectively and continuously pursuing, only at rare
intervals will it become explicit. For the most part the study of
his brief so exclusively occupies the surface of his mind, that no
other thought can share that prerogative. Naj^, his end of
action may even vary from time to time, without his being
aware of the fact ; though of course he might become aware of
it by sufficiently careful introspection.

So much then for explicit acts ; but one further explanation
must most carefully be borne in mind. Explicit acts need not
be '^ reflected on.'' Explicit acts (as we have explained) are acts
which are on the surface of my mind ; but they need not be
direct objects of my explicit thought. What the barrister ex-
plicitly contemplates, is his brief with its contents : he does not
in general explicitly contemplate his study of that brief. Let
us briefly elucidate this important distinction.

The great majority of my tiioughts (whether explicit or im-
plicit) have for their object somewhat external to my mind. I
am contemplating my chance of success at the bar; or the

The Extent of Free Will. 57

probable price of money in the immediate future ; or Mr. Glad-
stone's Irish land bill ; or the beauty of this poetry, or music, or
scenery ; or the mysteries of God and Christ. But if I am
psychologically disposed, a certain small number of my thoughts
will have for their object my own mental phenomena. These
thoughts may be called "reflexive," Ijecause in eliciting them
I '' turn back''-' my attention on myself.* Acts of the will then,
which are the object of these reflexive thoughts, may be called
acts '^ reflected on." They are not only " explicit," but some-
thing more ; they are actually at the moment reflected on by
me as such.

We must here introduce two explanations of terminology.
Firstly, Catholic theologians often speak of " full advertence to an
act," or "to the substance of an act." As we understand the
matter, they precisely mean by this, that the act is what we have
called " explicit." Most certainly they do not necessarily mean,
that the act is "reflected on;" and that there is a reflexive
thought in my mind which has such act for its object.

What we have said concerning " full advertence to an act,"
or " the substance of an act,'' applies of course equally to
virtuous and sinful acts. It must be carefully distinguished from
that " full advertence" to the " malitia" of a sinful act, which
so many theologians (rightly or wrongly) maintain to be required
for commission of mortal sin. On the latter we shall speak
before we conclude.

Our second terminological explanation refers to the word
" consciousness." Sometimes this word is used, as though I were
not " conscious " of any except " explicit " acts ; nay, some-
times as though I were not "conscious" of any acts, except
those "reflected on." W^e think that a different usage from
this is far more appropriate and convenient. We shall say that
every act, elicited by my soul, is one of which I am " conscious."
We may obviously divide this term — consistently with our previous
remarks — into consciousness " implicit," " explicit," and " re-
flected on." But we are disposed to think that no one, or hardly
any one, consistently uses the word " consciousness " in a sense
different from ours. When by introspection I have come to
observe the existence in my mind of some given implicit act or
thought — we think almost every one will say that I detect
simultaneously, not only the act or thought itself, but also my
(hitherto latent) "consciousness" of that act or thought.

So much on the " explicitness " of acts. But (as we have said)
in order that they be "perfectly voluntary," it is further neces-

* They are called by Catholic writers, " actus reflexi;" but, curiously
enough, the term "reflex acts" is commonly used by contemporary
Dhilosophers in a sense quite extremely opposite.

.58 The Extent of Free Will

sary that tliey be " mature/' When any thought whatever of
the virtuous or the pleasurable is proposed to me by my in-
tellect^ my will in the first instant is attracted to the end so
proposed,, without itself having (if we may so speak) any voice
in the matter. Even after the first instant, a further period
elapses, before my will has had opportunity to put forth its full
power in the way of acceptance or repudiation. It is not then
until this second period has come to an end, that the act becomes
(what we have called) ^^ mature." It is when an " explicit '^ act
has become " mature," that theologians call it " perfectly de-
liberate.^' For our own part (as we have already said) we think
it better to avoid the word '' deliberate ^' as much as possible ;
because we are disposed to think that the particular question,
which is our direct theme in this article, has been indefinitely
obscured by an equivocal use of that term.

No act, therefore, is '^perfectly voluntary," unless my will at
the moment possess full self-mastery ; nor unless the act itself
be (1) explicit and (2) mature. If an act (1) is " implicit," or
(2) merely "inchoate " — it belongs to a different category.

We have now sufficiently prepared our way for treating our
direct theme, the extent of Free Will. Concerning our own
doctrine — at this early stage of our argument w^e need say no
more than this. According to our view of the matter — whereas
throughout the day I am almost continuously engaged in one
perfectly voluntary act or other — all these acts are not voluntary
only, but also perfectly free. They possess this liberty, not only
at starting, but uninterruptedly during their whole course ; inso-
much that I am my own master, and responsible for my course
of action, during pretty nearly the whole of my waking life.
We do not mean indeed that my action at any given moment
is always either formally virtuous or formally sinful ; because (as
we have already explained) we recognize the existence of many
acts which, even materially, are indifierent. But we do say that
(speaking generally) there is not any absence of liberti/j which
would prevent such acts from being formally virtuous or sinful
during their whole continuance. This is the doctrine, which in
due course we are to illustrate and defend. But we must first
dispose of that most divergent tenet, to which we have so often
referred, and which it is the direct purpose of our article to
assail.

There is a large number then of firmly convinced Libertarians
— especially in the non-Catholic world — who are earnestly opposed
to our doctrine ; and who consider that a man's possession of
Free Will is a more or less exceptional fact in his daily life. They
hold that I do not possess Free Will, except at those particular

The Extent of Free Will. 59

moments, in which I have expressly consulted and debated with
myself between two or more competing alternatives, and have
just made a choice accordingly. " Shall I resist this evil
thought/'' I have just asked myself, "or shall I not resist it?^'
" Shall I adopt this course of life, which promises better for my
spiritual interests and worse for my secular ; — or shall I adopt
that other, which promises better for my secular interests and
worse for my spiritual ?^' I have just made my choice between
these two alternatives, and in making it I was free. But when
this express self-debate and self- consultation have come to an
end, then (according to these philosophers) my Freedom of Will
has also for the time ceased.

This theory has always impressed us as most extraordinary ;
and we have been in the habit of thinking, that it has largely
originated in an equivocal sense of the word " deliberate.'''' Men
constantly say, and with undoubted truth, that no act can be
perfectly free, unless it be ^'perfectly deliberate" — i.e., unless
it be " explicit ^^ and ^' mature." But the verb ^' to delil3erate ''■'
is often used as synonymous with to '^ debate and consult with
one's self;" and this sense — though fundamentally different
from the former — is not so entirely heterogeneous from it, as to
prevent the possibility of confusion. A " deliberate act " comes
almost unconsciously to be taken as meaning, " an act which has
been deliberated on ;" and thus a notion has grown up, that no
other kind of act is really free. But whatever may be the origin
of the tenet which we criticize, we do not deny that its advocates
may adduce one argument at least in their own favour, which is
not entirely destitute of superficial plausibility. I cannot be
free at this moment in eliciting any given act — so far all Liber-
tarians are agreed — unless I have the proximate power at this
moment, either to do it, or to abstain from doing it, as I may
please. But — so the argument may proceed — I have not this
proximate power, unless I have been just now expressly con-
sulting with myself between these two alternatives. We shall
not fail in the sequel to give this reasoning due attention.

Such however being our opponents' argument — they are
obviously led to a further conclusion, from which indeed (we
believe) they by no means shrink. E\ren at the period of my
internal debate and self-consultation, I have been no other-
wise free, than as regards the particular alternatives which have
competed for my acceptance. Let us suppose, e.g., that I have
long since firmly resolved to pursue a systematically inimical
<Jourse, against some one who has oflfended me. At this moment
I debate with myself — not at all whether I shall desist from my
injurious machinations — but only whether I shall adopt this
particular method of aggression or some other. Our opponents

60 The Extent of Free Will.

would hold, that my resolve of assailing him is not at the
moment a free resolv^e at all ; because on that question I have
been holding with myself no express consultation whatever. I
am only free just now — they consider — in my election of the
particular mine which I shall spring against him. This is a:
most obvious result of their theory ; nor are we aware that they
at all disavow it.

As we are throughout primarily addressing Catholics, we will
begin by briefly considering this tenet in its theological aspect.
And firstly let us consider its bearings on our Blessed Lady^s-
Free Will. Theologians point out in detail, how continuous
throughout each day were her merits, while she remained on
earth ; and how unspeakably elevated a position she has thereby
attained in heaven. Now if her merits were continuous, her
exercise of Free Will must have been continuous also. Yet
how often did she debate and consult with herself, on the choice
which she should make between two or more competing alterna-
tives? Never, we suppose, except in those comparatively most
rare instances, when she did not certainly know what course at
some given moment God preferred her to take. All the acts,
e.g., wherein, faithful to grace, she avoided imperfection — were
destitute of liberty, and destitute therefore of merit. For no
Catholic will of course dare to say, that she ever debated and
consulted with herself, whether she should or should not elicit
some given action, known by her as the less perfect alternative.

But the theological objection is even immeasurably graver, in.
the case of Jesus Christ. It is simply impossible that even once,
while upon earth, He should have debated and consulted with
Himself between two or more competing alternatives. This
supposition, we say, is simply impossible : because at every
moment He knew, in the Beatific Vision, what act His Father
desired at His hands ; and most assuredly did not debate or con-
sult with Himself, whether or not He should elicit that act
accordingly. Consider in particular His freely-acccomplished
death for the salvation of mankind. Did He debate and consult
with Himself, whether He should die? But if He did not, then
(according to our opponents) He was not free in dying ; and
man's redemption remains unaccomplished. We do not indeed
at all forget how many difficulties the theologian encounters, in^
harmonizing the various truths connected with our Lord's Freej
Will in dying. But any one, who has studied the discussions oi
this question, will thus only receive a stronger conviction thai
he could well obtain in any other way, how absolutely unhearc
of and undreamed of among theologians is that theory on thj
supposed limits of Free Will, which it is our direct purpose to
attack.

The Extent of Free Will. 61

And we are thus led to express theological citations on the
suhjecfc. We will select a very few out of* the large number
adducible; but they shall be amply sufficient to show beyond
the possibility of doubt, how profoundly at variance is this theory
with the voice of standard Catholic theologians.

There is no more authoritative writer just now on Moral
Theology, than F. Gury; and his treatise has of course received
great additional importance, since F. Ballerini has chosen it for
his text-book. Now in the seventeenth edition of Gury's work,
on which Ballerini founded his own of 1861, occurs the follow-
ing singularly express statement. '^Although," says Gury,
" the Free and the Voluntary are mutually distinguishable in the
abstract [in se distinguantur], in man during his earthly course
[in ho mine viatore] they are in reality not distinguished : be-
cause man, during his earthly course, while sui compos, never
acts under necessity/^ According to this statement, then, all
human acts are free, except, e.g., when the agent is asleep, or
otherwise incapable of truly voluntary action. And F. Ballerini
made on this no adverse comment whatever.

In his edition of 1875 we find F. Gury's words slightly
modified. They now run thus —

Although the Free and the Voluntary are distinguished in the
abstract — as is plain from the Definition of the two — nevertheless in
those acts in which man on this earth tends to his end, they are in
fact never separated : for whenever any act is voluntary, it is free ;
and vice-versa. The reason is, because (as S. Thomas says) in those
acts which are directed to [man's] ultimate end, nothing is found so
bad as to contain no admixture of good ; and nothing so good as to
suffice in all respects [for satisfaction of desire]. Now the only thing
which the will has not the power to abstain from willing, is that which
has the unmixed quality of good [completam boni rationem habet] :
such is perfect beatitude, or [man's] ultimate end ; for the sake of
which all [other] things are desired.

Here, it will be seen, F. Gury is making a distinction, which
he had not made in his earlier editions, between those acts on
one hand which men perform as conducive to their ultimate end,
and those acts on the other hand in which they aim immediately at
that ultimate end itself. It will be further seen, that, as regards
these latter acts, Gury regards them as subject to necessity of
exercise, no less than to necessity of specification. But as re-
gards that vast number of perfectly voluntary actions, which
are directed immediately to some other end than that of my
own beatitude — Gury pronounces that they are certainly free.
Yet the enormous majority of such actions during the day are
indubitably elicited, without express self-debate and self-con-
sultation.

62 Tlie Extent of Free Will

Ballerini^ in his edition of 1878^ cites at length the passage of
S. Thomas to which Gury refers ; and then adds this remark :
*' Which doctrine — accordant as it is no less with Right Reason
than with the Catholic Faith — shows plainly in what light a
certain recent philosophy is to be regarded^ which (under the
title of " The Limits of Human Liberty ") introduces without
any ground {inaniter invehif] innumerable acts, in which
[forsooth] man on earth (being otherwise sui comipos) is supposed
to \)Q necessitated y What the "modern philosophy'^ is, here
so severely censured by F. Ballerini, — we confess ourselves
entirely ignorant ; but we should say from his context, that it
must be some Catholic philosophy. Ballerini himself at all
events is plainly full of suspicion, as to any philosophy which
would circumscribe " human liberty '' by undue " limits.''^

Let us now pass to standard theologians of an earlier period ;
or rather to Suarez, who (as will be immediately seen) may
stand as representing them all. Suarez then holds ("De
Oratione,^^ 1. 3, c. 20, n. 5) that those acts of love, which holy
men elicit in a state of ecstasy, are free : sometimes with liberty
of specification, always with liberty of exercise. No one will
say that holy men in a state of ecstasy expressly debate and
consult with themselves, whether they shall continue their acts
of love or no. And presently (n. 8) Suarez adds : " It is tlie
common axiom, of theologians that, externally to the Beatific
Vision, the will is not necessitated in exercise by force of any
object which is but abstractively known, however perfectly" —
i.e., which is not known in the Beatific Vision. According to
Suarez, then, it is the common axiom of theologians that no
object necessitates the human will, except only God as seen
face to face in heaven. It might indeed be a matter of reason-
able inquiry how far so simply universal a statement — concerning
the whole body of theologians — is consistent with the fact, that
many theologians consider the will to be even under necessity
of exercise, when the thought of beatitude is proposed in thi»
life. There is no reason however for us to undertake such
inquiry. We need nothing for our own purpose, except to show
how unheard of among theologians is the particular notion which
we are directly combating ; and this fact is most abundantly
evident from our citations.

We should add that Suarez (" De Bonitate et Malitia
Actionum Humanarum/' d. 5, s. 3, nn. 22-35 ; " De Gratia,^^ 1. 12,
e. 21) makes plain how admitted a truth it is with theologians,
that an act protracts its virtuousness or sinfulness — in other
words, preserves its freedom — during the whole of its continuance."^

* The discussions in Moral Theology concerning the " number " of *
sins, sometimes (we incline to fancy) produce a certain misapprehension.

The Extent of Free Will. 63-

From the ground of theological authority^ we now proceed to
the ground of reason. And, in arguing with our present oppo-
nents, we are to take for granted the truth of those doctrines,
and the validity of those arguments, which they hold and adduce
in common with ourselves. Now in our articles against De-
terminism, we laid very great stress on that ineradicable con-
viction of their own Free Will, which is common to all mankind ;
a conviction which is the more remarkable, because so very few
can look at their own habitual conduct with satisfaction, if they
choose carefully to measure it even by their own standard of
right. All Libertarians agree with us on this matter ; and lay
stress on the fact to which we refer, as furnishing (even though
it stood alone) a conclusive proof of Free Will. They say — no
less than we say — that on such a subject the common sense and
common voice of mankind are an authority, against which there-
lies no appeal. In arguing then against thenif we have a right
to assume the principle to which they themselves assent ; we
have a right to assume the peremptory authority due, on this
subject, to the common judgment of mankind. We now there-
fore proceed to maintain that — when our opponent's theory is
embodied in concrete fact and translated into e very-day practice
— the very doctrine of Determinism is less repulsive to the
common sense and common voice of mankind, than is their
doctrine on the limits of Free Will. We will explain what vre
mean, by a short succession of instances.

We will begin with one, to which we just now referred in a
different connection. Let us suppose that I have long resolved
on a course of grave enmity against some one who has offendedi
me ; and that I have long with entire consistency acted on that
resolve. It has become indeed an inveterate habit with me —
a first principle (as it were) of conduct — so to act ; and as to
raising the question with myself, whether I shall or shall not

It is sometimes perhaps uiiconscionsly supposed, that if — during some
given period — A's sins are more numerous than B's of the same kind, A
may presumably be considered to have sinned more grievously than B
during the same period. But the very opposite inference is quite as
commonly the true one. A perhaps interrupts his sinful action from
time to time, and again renews it ; while B continues his evil course un-
intermittently and unrelentingly. We need hardly point out, that in
such a case (gravity of the sinful action being equal) B formally commits
far more of mortal sin than A, precisely because A's sins are more
" numerous." The number of instants, during which A merits increased
eternal punishment, is much smaller than the number of instants
during which B does so. Yet B's sinful instants make up what in the
Confessional is only counted as one sin ; while A's— from the very
fact of their having been interrupted — count as many. On the other
hand, we do not forget that (as Suarez somewhere observes) the fresh
starting of a mortally sinful act involves a certain special malitia of
its own.

U The Extent of Free Will.

continue in the same groove, — I should as soon raise the ques-
tion with myself, whether I shall or shall not continue to support
my children whom I tenderly love. At this moment, however,
I am debatino^ and consulting between two different methods of
assailing my foe which suggest themselves ; and I am calculat-
ing which of the two will inflict on him the heavier blow.
Under these circumstances our opponents must say, that I am
free indeed in my choice between these two evil machinations ;
but that I am strictly necessitated to carry out my original
resolve of injuring him in what way I can. I am strictly neces-
sitated at this moment so to act — if our opponents theory be
accepted — because at this moment I have been as far as possible
from consulting and debating with myself on this particular
question. But if I am necessitated so to act, I cannot of course
incur any formal sin thereby. In other words, I no more commit
formal sin at this moment by pursuing his ruin to the bitter end,
than I commit formal sin by giving my daughter a new bonnet in
proof of my affection.

Those Catholics, who are more or less implicated in the theory
which we are opposing, sometimes seek to evade the force of
our objection by a singular reply. They reply, that (under the
supposed circumstances) though my earnest resolve of crushing
my enemy be not directly free, yet it is free "in causa; in its
cause.'' They argue therefore, that they can consistently call
my present resolve formall}'' sinful, because they consider that
resolve to be "free in its cause/' But what is meant by this recog-
nized theological expression ? There is no doubt whatever about
its meaning. My resolve — they must mean to say — was "directly^'
free at its outset, because then I did debate and consult with
myself whether I should or should not form it. Moreover at
that time of outset, I was well aware that, if I formed such a
resolve, the issue would in all probability be a long continuance
of my revengeful action. Consequently (they urge) I then
incurred the formal guilt of my subsequent evil machinations.
Well, the whole of this is entirely true ; but then it is no less
entirely irrelevant. Indeed their making such an answer, is but
an unconscious attempt to throw dust into the eyes of their
critic. For we are not now discussing with our opponents the
moral quality of that evil action — now so long past — which I
elicited in forming my detestable resolve. We are discussing with
them the moral quality of my prese'?!^ evil volition ; wherein I
apply myself to the vigorously carrying out that earlier resolve,
without any pause of self-debate and self-consultation. And
their theory must compel them to admit, that this volition is
destitute of liberty, and exempt therefore from sin. According
to their tenet (w^e say) I am as exempt from formal sin in

The Extent of Free Will. 65

continuing my settled plan of revenge, as though I were engaged
in hymning the divine praises, or in spiritually assisting a sinner
on his death-bed.

As an opposite picture — before we proceed to the case of
saintly Catholics, let us take a more ordinary specimen of
human virtue. Let us look, e.g., at such a person as the
excellent Elizabeth Fry; and such a work as her reformation
of the Newgate female prisoners. "The pleasures, which
London affords to the wealthy, were at the disposal of her
leisure. But a casual visit paid to Newgate in 1813 revealed
to her the squalor and misery of the wretched inmates. She
succeeded in forming a society of ladies, who undertook to
visit the female prisoners. The most hardened and depraved
evinced gratitude; and those who had hitherto been un-
manageable, became docile under her gentle treatment.""^ One
cannot suppose that she entered on this noble enterprise with-
out much planning, self-debate, self-consultation : and in the
'planning it, our opponents will say that she was free. But
when her heart and sou) became absorbed in her glorious
work — when she no more dreamed of debating with herself
whether she should discontinue it, than of debating with her-
self whether she should include dancing lessons in her
course of instruction — then, forsooth, her Free Will collapsed.
Thenceforth there was no more formal virtue in her noble
labours, than if instead thereof she had spent her husband's
money in equipages and dress, and had enjoyed in full " the
pleasures which London offers to the wealthy.'-'

In truth — on this amazing theory — there can be no such
thing as confirmed laudableness or confirmed reprehensibleness
of conduct. When my habit of virtue or of sin is confirmed,
I no longer, of course, commonly debate or consult with my-
self whether I shall act in accordance with its promptings;
and, not being free therefore on such occasions, I cannot by
possibility act either laudably or reprehensibly.

Then consider the devout and interior Catholic who labours
day by day and hour by hour that his successive acts be virtually
and energetically referred to God. He may spare himself
the pains (if our opponents' theory hold) as far as regards any
supposed laudableness which can thence accrue. If indeed he
were weak-kneed and half-hearted in his spiritual life — if he
were frequently debating and consulting with himself whether
he should trouble himself at all with referring his acts to God —
then he might no doubt from time to time elicit acts formally
virtuous. But it is far otherwise with a fervent Catholic.

♦ Slightly abridged from Walpole'a "History of England," vol. i. p. 202.
VOL. VI. — NO. T. [Third Series.'] e

66 The Extent of Free Will

Again and again he is too much immersed in the thought of
God to think reflexively about himself. He dwells on the
mysteries of Christ ; he makes corresponding acts of faith,
hope, and love ; he prays for the Church ; he prays for his
enemies ; he prays for the various pious ends which he has at
heart ; and his thoughts are entirely filled with such holy con-
templations. Who will be absurd enough to say that this holy
man has all this time been expressly debating with himself
whether he shall or shall not cease from his prayers and medita-
tions ? Yet, except so long as such debate continues, he possesses,
forsooth, no liberty; and his prayers are no more formally good
and meritorious, than if he were in bed and asleep.

Surely such a view of things as we have been exhibiting
is one which would inexpressibly shock any reasonable man who
should contemplate it in detail. And yet we cannot for the life
of us see how the consequences, which we have named, fail to
follow in their entirety from that theory on the limits of Free
Will, which we so earnestly oppose. Now, on a question so
profoundly mixed up with every man's most intimate experience,
it is not too much to say that the universal testimony of mankind
is a conclusive proof of truth. Moreover (as we have already
pointed out), the adverse testimony of mankind is a consideration
which inflicts a blow of quite singular force on those particular
thinkers with whom we are just now in controversy. They
press the adverse testimony of mankind, as conclusive against
Deter minists ; and we in our turn press it, as even more conclu-
sive against themselves.

Such is the first reply which we adduce against our opponents.
Our second is the following : — The main argument — it will be
remembered — by which we purported to establish Free Will
was based on man^s experienced power of putting forth anti-
impulsive eftbrt. We here assume that our present opponents
agree with us on the validity of our reasoning on this head :
because, of course, it was in our earlier papers, and not in this,
that the proper opportunity occurred for vindicating the efficacy
of our earlier argument. So much then as this we may consider
to be common ground between our present opponents and our-
selves— viz., that whenever I put forth '^ anti-impulsive effort,^'
—in that moment at all events I possess Free Will. Let us
proceed then to point out how very frequently it happens that I
am putting forth (perhaps very successfully) these anti-impul-
sive efforts, on occasions when 1 do not dream of debating and
consulting with myself whether I shall put them forth. I have
received, e.g., some stinging insult ; I have offered it to God ; I
have firmly resolved (by His grace) steadfastly to resist all
revengeful emotions thence arising. I make this resolve once

The Extent of Free Will. 67

for all : and I no more dream of debating with myself whether
I shall continue to act on it, than of debating with myself
whether I shall in due course eat my dinner. Yet how frequent
— at first perhaps almost unintermitting — are my anti-impulsive
efforts. Again and again — while I am engaged in ray daily
occupations — the thought of the insult I have received sweeps
over my 'soul like a storm, awakening vivid emotions in corre-
spondence. As every such successive emotion arises, I exert
myself vigorously to oppose its prompting. But the most
superficial glance will show that such exertion is, very far
oftener than not, put forth spontaneously, unhesitatinsrly,
eagerly ; without any admixture whatever of self-debate and
self-consultation. Nay, it is precisely in proportion as this may
be the case — in proportion as the element of self-debate and
self-consultation is more conspicuously absent — in such very
proportion that particular argument for my possessing Free Will
becomes more obviously irresistible, which is based on the
promptitude and vigour of my anti-impulsive effort.

Thirdly, another consideration must not be omitted, which
does not, indeed, rise in the way of argument above the sphere
of probability, but which (within that sphere) is surely of
extreme weight. There is no question on which the infidels of
this day profess themselves more profoundly agnostic, than
this : What is the meaning, the drift, the significance of man^s
life on earth? Is life worth living? And if so, on what
grounds? Theistic Libertarians most justly claim it as an
especial merit of their creed, that it supplies so intelligible
and effective an answer to this question. This life (they say)
is predominantly assigned by God to man, as a place of proba-
tion; such that on his conduct here, depend results of unspeak-
able importance hereafter. Yet, according to those particular
Libertarians with whom we are now in controversy, man's
probation is at last confined to certain rare and exceptional
passages of his earthly existence. Even of that normal period,
during which his will is most thoroughly self-masterful, active,
energetic, supreme over emotion — during which he devises
and carries out his chief schemes, develops his most fertile
resources, manifests and moulds his own most distinguishing
specialties of character — very far the larger portion is entirely
external to this work of probation, which one would expect
to find so pervasive and absorbing. During far the greater
portion of this period (we say) our opponents are required by
their theory to account him destitute of Free Will ; unworthy
therefore of either praise or blame; incapacitated for either
success or failure in his course of probation.

It is quite impossible that a theory, so paradoxical and

!• 2

68 The Extent of Free Will.

startling, could have found advocates among men undeniably
able and thoughtful, had there not been at least some one super-
ficially plausible argument adducible in its favour. We have
already said that there is one such argument ; and we have no
more imperative duty in our present article than fairly to
exhibit and confront it. We will suppose an opponent then to
plead thus —

'^ I am not free at this moment, unless I have the proximate
" power at this moment, either to do what I do or to abstain
^' from doing it. But I cannot have this proximate power of
" choice, unless I have what may be called a 'proximate warning/
'^ nor can I have this, unless I have expressly in my mind the
'^ two alternatives between which I am to choose. I promised my
" daughter that, the next time I went to the neighbouring town,
" I would bring her back some stamped note-paper. Well, here
'^ I am, close to the stationer's shop ; but I have clean forgotten
'^ all about my promise. No one will say that, under these cir-
" cumstances, I have proximate power of choice as to getting the
" note-paper. Why not ? Because I have received no proximate
" warning. Let the remembrance of my promise flash across
" my mind, this affords the condition required. In like manner,
*' if I am expressly debating and consulting with myself at this
" moment whether I shall do this act or abstain from it — here is
'^ my proximate warning. But if I am not thus expressly
" debating and consulting, then I have no proximate warning at
*' all, nor proximate power of choice."

Now, in replying to this, we will confine our discussion to
perfectly voluntary acts. Our contention, as a whole, is, that all
perfectly voluntary acts are perfectly free ; and that all imper-
fectly voluntary acts have a certain imperfect freedom of their
own. But assuredly no one who is convinced of the former
doctrine will stumble at the latter; and we need not trouble
ourselves therefore with specially arguing in its favour. Then,
for our own part, we follow Suarez in thinking that even as re-
gards men's desire of beatitude — however accurately they may
apprehend that blessing — they possess therein full liberty of
exercise* And accordingly we hold (as just set forth) that all
perfectly voluntary acts in this life, without exception, are per-
fectly free. This then being understood, the sum of the answer
we should give to the argument above drawn out, is this : and we
submit our view with profound deference to the judgment of
Catholic theologians and philosophers. I possess an intrinsic
continuous sense of my own Free Will : and this sense amply

* This particular question seems to us so devoid of practical importance
that there is no necessity of giving reasons for our opinion.

The Extent of Free Will. 69

suffices to give me the proximate warning required for proximate
power of choice. Now therefore to exhibit this statement in
greater detail^ and to defend it by argument.

It is commonly said by Libertarians^ whether Catholic or non-
Catholic, that mane's Free Will is a simple and unmistakable
fact of experience. Arriaga, e.g.y considers it to be so immediate
an object of perception, that you can as it were touch it with your
hand (quasi manu palpare). And indeed a very common
expression is, that men are " conscious '' of their own Free Will.
Mr. Stuart Mill objected to this use of language. '^ We are
conscious,'' he said, " of what is, not of what will or can be/'
In April, 1874 (pp. 351-2), we admitted, that on the verbal
question, we are disposed here to agree with Mr. Mill y^ though
he had himself in a former work (by his own confession) used the
word " consciousness '' in the very sense to which he here
objected. He had used the word, as expressing "the whole of
our familiar and intimate knowledo^e concernino^ ourselves."
However, we willingly accepted Mr. MilFs second thoughts, in
repudiation of his first thoughts; and we have throughout
abstained from using the word " consciousness^' in the sense to
which he objected. " We will ourselves," we added, " use the
word 'self- intimacy' to express what is here spoken of." We
will not then say that I am " conscious " of my own Free Will,
but that I have a " self-intimate continuous sense thereof.'^ So
much on the question of words; and now for the substance of
what we would say.

How is this self- intimate continuous sense engendered, of
the power which I have over my own actions? Let us first
consider, by way of illustration, another self-intimate con-
tinuous sense of power, which I also indubitably possess : my
sense of my power over my own limbs. When I was first
born, I was not aware of this power; but my unintermittent
exercise thereof has gradually given me a self-intimate con-
tinuous sense of my possessing it. A student — let us suppose —
has been sitting for three hours on the edge of a cliff at his
favourite watering-place, immersed in mathematics. A little
girl passes not far from him, and falls over the clifi", to the great
damage of her clothes, and some damage of her person. Her
mother reproaches the mathematician for not having prevented the
accident ; though probably enough he may have quite a sufficient
defence at his command. But suppose what he does say were
precisely this : " I could not reach your child without moving ;
" and in the hurry of the moment, I really did not remember

* We have spoken on the meaning of this word " conscious" in a pre-
vious page.

70 The Extent of Free Will.

" that I had the power of moving. I must tell you that it was
" full three hours since I last had moved my legs ; and you
'' cannot be surprised therefore that my remembrance of my
*' possessing the power to move them was none of the freshest/'
The mother would feel that he was here adding insult to injury.
Had she scientific words at her command, she would energeti-
cally press on him the fact, that his sense of his power over his
limbs is not a fitful, intermittent sense, liable to temporary sus-
pension ; but on the contrary is such a continuous self-intimate
sense, as would have most amply sufficed had he possessed any
genuine inclination to move.

Now as to the still more important power which I possess—
the power of resisting my wilFs spontaneous impulse — my ex-
perience of it (no doubt) did not begin for (say) a year or two
after I had habitually experienced my power over my limbs.
But when once it did begin, it was called into almost as
frequent exercise. If I received a good moral and religious
education — that very statement means, that I was repeatedly
summoned to the exercise of anti-impulsive effort, in the in-
terests of religion and morality. If I received no such educa-
tion— the circumstances of each moment nevertheless brought
with them after their own fashion a lesson, entirely similar as
regards our present argument. My life would have been simply
intolerable, had I not a thousand times a day energetically
resisted my vvilPs spontaneous impulse, in order to avert future
suffering and discomfort, or in order to avoid the displeasure of
those among whom I lived. This proposition we assume, from
our previous articles on the subject. In accordance then with
the well-known laws of human nature, I acquired by degrees (as
I grew up) a self-intimate continuous sense, that I have the
'power of resisting at pleasure my spontaneous impulse; or (in
other words) that my Will is Free. My notion of acting at all
with perfect voluntariness has become indissolubly associated
with my notion of acting freely, I have a self-intimate con-
tinuous sense that I am no slave to circumstances, whether
external or internal; that I have true control over my own
conduct; that I am responsible for my own voluntary acts. The
very consciousness that I am acting voluntarily^ carries with it
the sense that I am acting freely. This self-intimate sense
suffices to give me proximate warning at each instant of per-
fectly voluntary action ; and so suffices to give me a true
proximate power of choice — whatever I may be about at the
moment — between continuing to do it and abstaining therefrom.

Before going further, let us examine what we have now said»|
by the test of plain facts ; and let us once more resort to our old
illustration of the revengeful man. I am firmly resolved to

The Extent of Free Will. %l

inflict on my enemy whatever suffering I can ; for such indeed
is my rooted and inveterate principle of conduct : but I am
debating with myself what Triethod of aggression will just now
be most conducive to my end. Now we say this. If I believe
in Free Will at all, and if I choose to think about the matter at
all, I cannot possibly persuade myself that the doctrine of
" limited ^^ Free Will here holds good. I cannot possibly per-
suade myself that I am free indeed at this moment in my choice
between these particular machinations; but that my general
resolve of crushing him is a necessitated act, for which I incur no
present responsibility. We really do not think that any one,
capable of self-introspection, would here even dream of any state-
ment contrary to ours, except under extremest pressure of a
paradoxical theory. But if I cannot possibly persuade myself
that my resolve is necessitated — this is merely to say, in other
words, that I invincibly recognize within myself the proximate
power of choosing at this moment to abandon such resolve.

In truth the cases are by no means rare, in which it is most
obvious on the surface — in which no one can by possibility doubt —
that I have most abundant proximate power of choice, without
any debate or self-consultation. The whole psychology of habit
(as we have already implied) is here directly to our purpose. I
have acquired a deeply-rooted habit of forgiveness, and receive a
stinging insult. Spontaneously and instinctively — as soon as my
will obtains even a very moderate degree of self-mastery — I select
between the two alternatives, of succumbing or not succumbing
to my violent emotion. I select the virtuous alternative; I fight
successfully God's battle in my soul ; I should be utterly ashamed
of myself if I condescended to self-debate and self-consultation.
It is precisely because I do not so condescend, that 1 have more
proximate power (not less) of making my effective choice between
the two alternatives.

It may be said, no doubt, that this sense of proximate power
given me by an acquired habit is not continuous; for it is only
at comparatively rare intervals that any one given acquired habit
has occasion of exhibiting its efficacy. Still other instances are
easily found in which my self-intimate power does continue unin-
termittently. Consider, e.g.^ my self-intimate sense of the power
which I possess, to talk correct English, or to practise correct
spelling. Consider a groom's self intimate continuous sense, that
he possesses the power of riding; or a law-clerk's, that he possesses
the power of writing legibly. Again, a very conspicuous instance
of what we mean is afforded by the phenomena of gentlemanliness.
One who has lived all his life in thoroughly gentlemanly society,
has a continuous self-intimate sense of his power to comport him-
self like a gentleman throughout every event of the day. Or let

72 The Extent of Free Will

us adduce a very different illustration. Suppose I am suffering
under some affection in the neck, which makes this or that posture
intensely painful. At first it does not happen so very unfrequently,
that I accidentally assume the posture and incur the penalty.
But as time advances, I obtain by constant practice the desired
knack, of so movinj^ myself as to avoid pain ; and the possession
of that power is speedily followed, by my self-intimate continuous
sense of its possession.

The sum then of what we have been saying is this. On one
hand the self-intimate continuous sense of possessing this or that
proximate power, is by no means an uncommon fact in human
nature. On the other hand it is established by due introspection
— and easily explicable also by recognized psychological laws —
that men do possess this self-intimate continuous sense of their
proximate power, either to acquiesce in their spontaneous impulse
of the moment, or to resist it. In other words, they possess a self-
intimate continuous sense of Free Will ; a sense which at every
moment gives them proximate warning of their responsibility.

Such — we are convinced — is substantially true doctrine, con-
cerning the extent of Free Will ; and we only wish we had space
to enter on its more complete and detailed exposition. One theo-
logical objection however occurs to us, as possessing a certain
superficial plausibility ; an objection, founded on that very doctrine
which we alleged against our opponents — viz., the doctrine of our
Blessed Lady^s interior life. If men^s self-intimate sense of
liberty is founded on their repeatedly experienced power of
resisting spontaneous impulse — how (it may be asked) can she
have acquired it, who was never even once called on or permitted
to resist spontaneous impulse ? But the answer is obvious enough.
Those most noteworthy characteristics, which so conspicuously
distinguished her interior life from that of ordinary mortals, did
not arise (we need hardly say) from the fact that her nature
differed from theirs; but from a cause quite different. They
arose from the fact that — over and above that perfection of
natural and supernatural endowments with which she started —
God wrought within her a series of quite exceptional Providential
operations : operations, which preserved her infallibly from sin ;
from concupiscence ; from moral imperfection ; from interruption
of her holy acts and affections. If this continuous sense of Free
Will therefore were required for the formal virtuousness of her
acts, it is included in the very idea of God's dealings with her,
that He either directly infused this sense into her soul, or other-
wise secured for her its possession. And if it be further inquired
how her possession of Free Will was consistent with the fact, that
her unintermittently virtuous action was infallibly secured — i
nothing on this head need be added to the most lucid explanation

The Extent of Free Will. 73

given by Suarez and other theologians. For our own purpose
however we should further explain, that though she possessed
Free Will — as did our blessed Lord — we do not for a moment
mean to imply that she was in a state of probation. And we
should also add, once for all, that what remarks we have farther
to make in this article will not be intended as including our
Blessed Lady within their scope, but only as applying to other
human persons.

We have now completed all which strictly belongs to our direct
theme; and must once more express that we put forth all our
remarks with diffidence and deference, submitting them to the
judgment of Catholic theologians and philosophers. But we
would further solicit the indulgence of our readers, while we
touch (as briefly as we can) two further subjects, which are in
somewhat close connection with our theme ; which throw much
light on it; and which are in some sense necessary as its comple-
ment. No one can more regret than we do, the unwieldy length
which thus accrues to our article. But the course of our series
will not bring us again into contact with the two subjects to which
we refer ; and if we do not enter on them now, we shall have no
other opportunity of doing so. We cannot attempt indeed to do
them any kind of justice ; or to set forth in detail the arguments
which seem to us adducible for our doctrine concerning them.
Still we are very desirous of at least stating the said doctrine ; in
hope that other more competent persons may correct and complete
whatever is here mistaken or defective.

The first of these two subjects concerns the relation between
Free Will and Morahty. And at starting let us explain the sense
of our term, when we say that, during certain periods, a man
has a "prevalent remembrance" of this or that truth. A mer-
chant, e.g.y is busily occupied at this moment on 'Change. There
are certain general principles and maxims of mercantile conduct,
which he has practically learned by long experience, of which he
preserves a "prevalent remembrance" throughout his period of
professional engagement. This does not mean that he is actually
thinking of them all the time; but that he has acquired a certain
quality of mind, in virtue of which (during his mercantile trans-
actions) these various principles and maxims are proximately
ready, to step (as it were) into his mind on every approximate
occasion. Or to take a very different instance. A fox-hunter,
while actually in the field, preserves a " prevalent remembrance "
of certain practical rules and sporting axioms — on the practica-
bility, e.g.y of such or such a fence — which again and again saves
him from coming to grief. Now this " prevalent remembrance ''
may, in some cases — instead of being confined to particular periods

74 The Extent of Free Will. ^

— become '' pervasive ^^ of a man's whole waking life. Let us
take two instances of this, similar to two which we have already
given in a somewhat diiferent connection. The thoroughly-
gentlemanly man enjoys all day long a "pervasive remembrance""
of the general laws and principles which appertain to good
breeding. And one who for many years has had a malady in his
neck possesses all day long a " pervasive remembrance" of what
are those particular postures which would give him pain. This
does not mean, either that the gentlemanly man or again the
neck-affected man never for one moment forgets himself; but it
does mean, that the instants of such forgetfulness are comparatively
verj'- ^Qw.

This terminology being understood, we submit the following
proposition : — As all men on one hand, throughout all their long
periods of perfectly voluntary action, possess a self- intimate sense
of their Free Will; so on the other hand, during the same
periods, they preserve a " pervasive remembrance" of two car-
dinal truths. These two truths are (1) that virtuousness has a
paramount claim on their allegiance ; and (2) that pleasurable-
ness (whether positive or negative) will incessantly lead them
captive, whenever they do not actively resist it. We have already
said, that we have no space here for anything like a due exhibition
of the arguments adducible in support of our statement ; and as
regards, indeed, the second of our two cardinal truths, we suppose
every one will be disposed readily enough to accept it. As
regards the former of our truths — that virtuousness has a para-
mount claim on men^s allegiance — we have of course nothing to
do here with proving that it is a truth. This task we consider
ourselves to have abundantly performed on more than one earlier
occasion ; and we would refer especially to our article on " Ethics
in its bearing on Theism," of January, 1880. Again, we are not
for a moment forgetting, that men differ most widely from each
other (on the surface at least) as to what are those particular acts
and habits which deserve the name of " virtuous." Still, we
have maintained confidently, on those earlier occasions, that the
idea " virtuousness," as found in the minds of all, is one and the
same simple idea ; and that virtuousness, so understood, is really
recognized by all men, as having a paramount claim on their
allegiance. What we are here specially urging is, that (through-
out their period of perfectly voluntary action) all men — even the
most abandoned — preserve a '^ pervasive remembrance" of this
truth.

We have already explained how entirely impossible it is on the
present occasion to attempt any adequate exhibition of the argu-
ments adducible for our doctrine; but such considerations as the
following are those on which we should rely : — Firstly, let it be

The Extent of Free Will 75

observ^ed how indefinitely large is the number of moral judgments
which succeed each other in every one^s mind throughout the
day. "I am bound to do what I am paid for doing." " K. be-
haved far better than L. under those circumstances." " M. is
really an unmitigated scoundrel." '^ No praise can be too great
for N.'s noble sacrifice." '' How base it was of O. to tell me those
lies." " What cruel injustice I received at the hands of P." It
is not merely men that live by moral rule and look carefully after
their consciences who are quite continually thus speaking; but
the general rough mass of mankind. Even habitual knaves and
cheats are no less given than honest people to censure the
conduct of others as being unjust, oppressive, mendacious, or
otherwise immoral. " There is " moral '* honour " and moral
dishonour " among thieves." The notion of right and wrong, in
one shape or other, is never long absent from any one's thoughts ;
even his explicit thoughts. Then, secondly, let those psychical
facts be considered, which have led ethical philosophers of the
intuitionist school to insist on "the still small voice of con-
science;" the instinctive efforts of evil men to stifle that voice ;
the futiHty of such eff'orts, &c. &c.* We are entirely confident
that such statements are most amply borne out by experienced
psychical facts; though we cannot here enter on the inves-
tigation.

If the doctrine be accepted which we have here put forth,
assuredly it throws most important light on man^s moral consti-
tution. My self-intimate sense of Free Will — we have already
seen — gives me unintermittent information of my responsibility
for my acts one by one. But now further the Moral Voice, which
I can so constantly hear within me — in emphatic correspondence
with that information — gives me full proximate warning, by
what standard I am to measure those acts. On the one hand, I
am free to choose ; while on the other hand I ought to choose
virtuously. The claims of virtuousness — the attractions of
pleasurableness — these are (as one may say) the two poles
between which my moral conduct vibrates. Either motive of
action is legitimate within its sphere, but one of the two right-
fully claims supremacy over the other. And my self-intimate
sense of Free Will unfalteringly reminds me that I am here and
now justly reprehensible and worthy of punishment, so far as I
rebel against the higher claim, under solicitation of the lower
attractiveness.

* So (as one instance out of a thousand) F. Kleutgen speaks : " Con-
science," he says, " does not always so speak and raise its voice, as to take
from man the power of turning from it and refusing to listen." " It is often
in man's power to abstain from entering into himself and lending his ear
to that voice," &c. &c. We quoted the whole of F. Kleutgen's very
remarkable passage, in October, 1874, pp. 44:-450.

76 The Extent of Free Will

The second subject on which we desire to touch, is a certain
thesis concerning the kind and degree of advertence required for
mortal sin. That tenet concerning the extent of Free Will,
which it has been our direct purpose to oppose, is very seldom
(if indeed ever) applied by Catholics to their appraisement of
virtuous actions. One never hears, e.g., that a holy man^s prayer
is necessitated, and therefore destitute of merit, because he has
not been just debating and consulting with himself whether he
shall or shall not continue it. But there are two classes of occa-
sion (we think) on which the tenet of limited Free Will does at
times (consciously or unconsciously) find issue. One of these is
when the Catholic defends Free Will against Determinists ;
under which circumstances he is sometimes tempted by the
exigencies of controversy to minimize his doctrine : and on this
matter we have now sufficiently spoken. The other occasion is,
when question is raised concerning the advertence required for
mortal sin. Here then alone would be ample reason for our
wnshing not to be entirely silent on this grave theological question.
But (by a curious coincidence) there is another reason, altogether
distinct, which makes it pertinent that we enter on this particular
subject. For the thesis to which we have referred, if consistently
carried out, would place in a quite extraordinarily and prepos-
terously favourable light the moral position of those infidels, who
are our immediate opponents throughout our present series of
articles.

Some Catholics then seem to hold, that no mortal sin can
be formally committed, unless (1) the agent explicity advert
to the circumstance, that there is at least grave doubt whether
the act to which he is solicited be not mortally sinful; and
unless (2) — after having so adverted — he resolve by a perfectly
voluntary choice on doing it.^ Now we admit most heartily,
that here is contained an admirable practical rule, as regards a
large class of persons whom Moral Theology is especially required
to consider. Take a Catholic who is ordinarily and normally
averse to mortal sin, and who regularly frequents the Con-
fessional. Such a man may be certain that some given past
act, which tends to give him scruple, was not formally a
mortal sin unless (at the time of doing it) he explicitly adverted
to the circumstance, that there was grave doubt at least
whether the act were not mortally sinful. But the thesis of
which we are speaking seems sometimes laid down — not as
supplying a test practically available in certain normal cases —

* Such seems the obvious sense of Gury's exposition : " De Peccatis,"
n. 150. S. AlphonsTis and Scavini use far more guarded language.
Suarez gives a most thoughtful treatment of the matter: "De Yoiuntario,"
d. 4, s. 3. But we have no space for citing the dicta of theologians.

The Extent of Free Will, 77

but as expressing a necessary and universal truth. If this he
the thesis really intended — our readers will readily understand
oar meaning, when we said just now that it seems intimately
connected with that tenet of limited Free Will, which we have
been so earnestly opposing. In the first place there is on the
surface a very strong family likeness between the two theories.
Then, further, we are really not aware of any reasoning by which
the " explicit advertence '' theory can be defended, unless its
advocates assume the tenet of unlimited Free Will. But how-
ever this may be — we would entreat theologians duly to consider
some few of the consequences which would result, if the
"explicit advertence" thesis were accepted. We will begin
with the case of those Antitheistic infidels, who are at this time
so increasing in number and aggressiveness.

The Antitheist then would not be accounted capable of mortal
sin at all. What Catholics call ''sin,^' is something most
definite and special. " Sin" — in the Catholic^s view — is separated
by an absolutely immeasurable gulf from all other evils what-
ever ; insomuch that all other evils put together do not approach
to that gravity, which exists in even one venial sin. But the
whole body of Antitheists (we never heard of one exception) en-
tirely deny that there can be any such " malitia^' as this, in any
possible or conceivable act. It is simply impossible then —
as regards any act in the whole world which the Antitheist may
choose to commit — that he shall (before committing it) have
asked himself whether it were mortally sinful. And con-
sequently— according to the thesis we are criticizing — it is simply
impossible that any act in the whole world, which he may
choose to commit, can be formally a mortal sin.

Consequently no such thing is possible to any human being,
as gravely culpable ignorance of God. Ignorance of God (according
to Catholic doctrine) cannot be gravely culpable, unless it result
from the formal commission of mortal sin ; and Antitheists
(according to this thesis) are unable formally to commit mortal
sin. Now we are very far from wishing here to imply any
special doctrine, concerning invincible ignorance of God : few
theological tasks (we think) are just now more urgent than a
profound treatment of this whole question. But that there is
not, and cannot possibly be, any ignorance of God which is not
invincible — this our readers will confess to be a startling pro-
position. We submit, however, that it follows inevitably from
the thesis before us.

From Antitheists let us proceed to Theistic non-Catholics.
Suarez quotes with entire assent S. Augustine's view, that the
two causes which, immeasurably more than any other, keep back
a non-Catholic from discerning the Church's claims, are (1)

78 The Extent of Free Will.

pride and (2) worldliness.* Yet in regard to these two classes of
sins — which (in the judgment of S. Augustine and of SuarezJ
spread so subtle a poison through man's moral nature, and so signally
dim man's spiritual discernment — how can the thesis which we
are opposing account them mortally sinful at all ? What proud
man ever reflected on his pride ? What worldly man on his
worldliness ? Suppose, e.g., a man considered himself to reflect
on the fact that he is eliciting a mortally sinful act of pride :
all men would be at once sure that it is his very humility which
deceives him. He who is at this moment committing what is
materially a mortal sin of pride, most certainly does not dream
that he is so doing ; and still less does he explicitly advert to the
circumstance. Or consider some other of the odious characters
to be found in the non-Catholic world. Take, e.g., this typical
revolutionary demagogue. He is filled with spite and envy,
towards those more highly placed than himself. He consoles
himself for this anguish, by inhaling complacently the senseless
adulation of his dupes. He gives no thought to their real
interest — though he may persuade himself that the fact is other-
wise— but uses them as instruments for his own profit and
aggrandizement. How often does this villain reflect on his
villainy from one year's end to another ? God in His mercy
may visit him with illness or affliction : but otherwise the
thought never occurs to him, that he is specially sinful at all. Yet
would you dare to deny, that during a large part of his earthly
existence he is formally committing mortal sin ? And remarks
entirely similar may be made on the whole catalogue of those
specially odious offences^ which are built on fanaticism and self-
deception.

And now, lastly, we would solicit theologians to consider, how
such a thesis as we are considering will apply even to those
Catholics who absent themselves from the Confessional and are
confirmed sinners. Look at our old case of the revengeful man.
My resolve of injuring my enemy in every way I can has
become, by indulgence, a part (one may say) of my nature ; and
I am at this moment immersed in some scheme for inflicting on
him further calamity. I have been profoundly habituated, these
several years past, to set the Church's lessons at defiance, and to
commit mortal sin without stint or scruple. In consequence of

* " Heresy is found in a man after two different fashions — viz., either
as himself author of the heresy, or as persuaded by another. And it
does not arise after the former fashion, except either from pride or from
too great affection for earthly and sensible objects : as Augustine says.
But he who is drawn by another into heresy, either imitates [the heresiarcli
himself] in pride and worldliness; or else is deceived ignorantly and
through a certain simplicity." — Be Amissione InnocentioB, c. 2, s. 17.

The Extent of Free Will. 79

this, I no more explicitly advert to the fact that I am sinnint^
mortally in my revengeful resolves — than I explicitly advert to
the fact that I am passing* through certain streets^ on my daily
trodden road from my office to my home. Now there is no
Catholic, we suppose, who will not admit, that I continue to be
formally committing a large number of mortal sins, during all
this protracted course of vindictiveness. But how can such an
admission be reconciled with the thesis which we are opposing?

Now take an importantly different instance. I am just
beginning an habitually wicked life. I secretly retain some large
sum, which I know to be some one else^s property ; or I enter
into permanent immoral relations with another person. I cannot
get the fact out of my head, and so I am always reflecting on my
sinfulness ; while I still cannot make up my mind to amend. I
formally therefore commit mortal sin, at pretty well every
moment of my waking life. Time however goes on ; and in due
course I become so obdurate, that I do not reflect for a moment,
from week's end to week's end, on the circumstance that I am
setting God's Law at defiance. Let us briefly contrast these
two periods. Suppose, e.g., I make my definitive resolution of
remaining in sin, on March 12, 1871; and since that day have
not once made any real effort to reform. Then compare the
moral life which I led on March 13, 1871, with that which I
led on March 13, 1881. On the earlier day I was, beyond the
possibility of doubt, formally committing mortal sin almost every
moment of the day, during which I was not asleep or tipsy;
because I was constantly reflecting on my wicked life, and pur-
posing to continue it. Now my acts of March 13, 1881, taken
one by one, are assuredly far more wicked than those of March
13, 1871. Suarez ("De Peccatis," d. 2, s. 1, n. 3) lays down as
the commonly admitted doctrine, that " the deformity of mortal
sin consists in this — that through such sin the sinner virtually
and interpretatively loves the creature more than he loves God.''
But if, in my acts of March 13, 1871, I was virtually and inter-
pretatively loving the creature more than I loved God — who wijl
doubt that, in those of March 13, 1881, I am doing this same
thing very far more signally and unreservedly? And if the
former acts therefore were mortally sinful, much more are these
latter. Yet, according to the adverse thesis, these latter acts are
not mortally sinful at all ; because my detestable obduracy is now
so confirmed, that I do not even once explicitly advert to the
circumstance, how wicked is my course of life.

Such are a few instances which we would press on the attention
of theologians, as exhibiting results which ensue from the thesis
we deprecate ; and many similar ones are readily adducible. We
submit with much deference, that a satisfactory solution of the

80 The Extent of Free Will.

whole difficulty cannot be found, unless that doctrine he borne in
mind which we just now set forth, concerning (1) men^s self-
intimate sense of Free Will ; and (2) the constant urgency of the
Moral Voice speaking within them. But before entering directly
on this argument, we will distinctly express two propositions ;
which otherwise it might possibly be supposed that we do not
duly recognize. First — there cannot possibly be mortal sin in
any act, which is not "perfectly voluntary;" and we have fully
set forth in our preceding n. xi. how much is contained in
this term " perfectly voluntary/' Secondly — no one can
commit mortal sin, except at those times in which he pos-
sesses full proximate power of suspecting the fact. When we
come indeed to treat the particular case of Antitheistic infidels,
we shall have to guard against a possible misconception of this
statement; but to the statement itself we shall entirely adhere.
So much then having been explained, we will next try to set
forth, as clearly as is consistent with due brevity, the principles
which (as we submit) are truly applicable to the moral apprecia-
tion of such instances as we have just enumerated.

We begin with the revengeful Catholic, who is well aware
indeed of the circumstance that his vindictive machinations
are mortally sinful : but who is so obdurate in his sin, that he
gives no explicit advertence to their sinful character. If those
doctrines which we advocate are admitted — concerning his
self-intimate sense of Free Will, and the constant monitions of
his Moral Voice — he has evidently, during almost the whole
period occupied by these revengeful machinations, full proximate
power of explicitly adverting to their sinfulness. There may
be occasional moments of invincible distraction ; and at those
moments (we admit) his formal commission of mortal sin
temporarily ceases; but these surely cannot be more than
exceptional, and recurring at rare intervals. And such as we
have here given, would be substantially (we suppose) the
account given by all Catholic thinkers ; for all Catholics surely
will admit, that his successive machinations are for the most
part (even if there be any exceptional moment) imputed to the
agent as mortally sinful.

We now come to the second instance. A Catholic (we have
supposed) has plunged into some mortally sinful mode of life ; at
first he has been tormented all day long by remorse of con-
science ; but in due course of obduration, has entirely ceased to
reflect on his deplorable state. Now in order to solve both this
and the other difficult cases which we just now set forth, it is neces-
sary (we think) not only to bear in mind the doctrines which we
have already exhibited concerning men's self-intimate sense of
Free Will and the monitions of their Moral Voice — but another

The Extent of Free Will, 81

doctrine also entirely distinct. We may call this the doctrine of
" inordination." It is one on which recent theologians (we
venture to submit) have not sufficiently insisted;^ but which
is of most critical importance on such questions as we are now
discussing. It has been expressed and illustrated with admirable
force by the late F. Dalgairns, in that chapter of his work on
" The Blessed Sacrament," which is called '* Communions of the
Worldly ;" a chapter which we earnestly hope our readers will
study as a whole in the present connection. We can here
only find room for a very few of the relevant passages.

Christianity holds as a first principle, that God is to be loved above
all things ; in such a sense that if a creature appreciatively loves any
created thing more than God, he commits a mortal sin (second edition,
p. 359).

When the afiection for an earthly object or pursuit for a long time
together so engrosses the soul, as to superinduce an habitual neglect
of God and a continued omission of necessary duties, then it is very
difficult for the soul to be unconscious of its violation of the First
Commandment, or (if it is unconscious) not to be answerable to God
for the hardness of heart which prevents its actual advertence {ih.^.

We will suppose a merchant entirely engrossed in the acquisition of
riches. No one will say that to amass wealth is in any way sinful. It
has never come before him to do anything dishonest in order to in-
crease his property, and he has never formed an intention to do so.
Nevertheless, if his heart is so fixed on gain, that his affection for it is
greater than his love of God — even though he has formed explicitly
no design of acting dishonestly — he falls at once out of the state of
grace. Let him but elicit from his will an act by which he virtually
appreciates riches more than God, that act of preferring a creature to
God (if accompanied by sufficient advertence) is enough of itself to

constitute mortal sin The First Commandment is as binding

as the Seventh ; and a man who does not love God above all things, is
as guilty as the actual swindler or thief {ih. p. 360).

And in p. 317 F. Dalgairns adduces theological authority for
his doctrine. We should be disposed to express it thus. Any
one (we should say) is at this moment materially committing
mortal sin, if he is eliciting — towards this or that pleasurable end
— some act of the will so inordinate, that by force of such act, he
would on occasion violate a grave precept of God, rather than
abandon such pleasure. And he formally commits mortal sin,

* All theologians admit that no divine precept can possibly be violated,
except througb the sinner's inordinate attachment to creatures. But we
venture to think that the tendency has of late been to dwell too exclusively
on the violation of precept ; and not to exhibit in due prominence the
attachment to creatures. S. Thomas's treatment of such matters is em-
phatically different (we think) in its general tone.

VOL. VI. — NO. I. {Third SeTies.J a

82 The Extent of Free Will.

if he elicits such an act while he possesses full proximate power
to suspect its being mortally sinful.

Or let us exhibit our doctrine in the concrete. No one (as
has been so repeatedly pressed in this article) can possibly offend
God, except for the sake of this or that pleasure ; and every one
therefore who commits mortal sin, is ipso facto preferring some
pleasure to God. At this moment I am gravely calumniating an
acquaintance, in order to gratify my vain -glory by being more
highly thought of than he is. Here are two concomitant
mortal sins; related to each other, as respectively the "com-
manding " and " commanded '' act [" actus imperans : '^ " actus
imperatus ^^] . The " commanding '^ act is my mortal sin of vain-
glory; the "commanded" act is my mortal sin of calumny.
But how comes the former to be a mortal sin ? There is no sin
whatever in my mere desire of being highly thought of by my
fellow-men. True; but that desire is "gravely inordinate '^ —
"a mortal sin of vain-glory " — if it be such, as to command what
is objectively a mortal sin, rather than lose the pleasure at which
it aims."^ But now observe. I may, the next minute, altogether
forget the particular man whom I have been calumniating ; and
the " commanded" mortal sin may thus come to an end. But
this is no reason in the world why my " commanding" mortal
sin — my sin of vain-glory — should change its character. If it
were mortal sin before — and if there be no change in its
intrinsic qualities — it continues to be mortal sin now.
Wherein does its mortally sinful character consist ? In this :
that hy force of my present act, I should on occasion gravely
offend God, rather than lose the pleasure at which I am aiming;

* " If love of riches so increase that they may be preferred to charity ;-^
in such sense that, for the love of riches, a man fear not to act in opposi-
tion to the love of God and his neighbour; — in this case avarice will be a
mortal sin. But if the inordination of the man's love [for riches] stop
within this limit ; in such sense that, although he loves riches too much,
nevertheless he do not prefer the love of them to the love of God, so that
he do not .will for their sake, to do anything against God and his neigh-
bour—such avarice is a venial sin,"S. Thomas, 2* 2** q. cxviii. a. 4.

" Inordination of fear is sometimes a mortal sin, sometimes a venial.
For if any one is so disposed that — on account of that fear whereby he
shrinks from danger of death or from some other temporal evil— lie would
do something prohibited or omit something commanded in the Divine Law
— such fear will be a mortal sin." — lb. q. cxxv. a. 3.

•' If the inordination of concupiscence in gluttony imply aversion from -a
man's Ultimate End," accipiatur secundum aversionem a Fine Ultimo," so
gluttony will be a mortal sin. Which happens, when a man cleaves to the
pleasurableness of gluttony as to an end, on account of which he despises
God : being prepared to violate the Precepts of God, in order to obtain
such gratifications." — Ih. q. cxlviii. a. 2.

F. Ballerini savs (on Gury, vol. i. n. 178) that S. Thomas's " Secunda
Secundaa " " ought never to be out of the Confessor's hands."

The Extent of Free Will. • 83

or (in other words) that, hy eliciting my present act of vain-
glory, I appreciatively prefer to God the being highly thought of
by my fellow -men.

Here then we are able to explain what we mean, by '^inordi-
nate^' desire of pleasurableness. The particular given act —
wherein I desire the pleasure which ensues from good opinion of
my fellow-men — may be of three different characters, which it i$
extremely important mutually to distinguish. It may (1) be
such, that — by force of such act — I would rather gravely offend
God, than lose the pleasure in question : in which case the act is
" gravely inordinate," and (at least materially) a mortal sin. Or
it may be (2) such that — by force of such act — I would rather
offend God venially (though not gravely) rather than lose the
pleasure : in which case the act is " venially inordinate " and
" venially sinful." Or, lastly — however strong my act of desire
may be — yet it may not be such that, by force of it I would
offend God in any way rather than lose the pleasure. In this
latter case, the act is not " inordinate" at all ; not properly called
" vain-glory " at all ; nor (as we should say) possessing any
element whatever of sin.*

It will be remembered also, that that " gravely inordinate "
act, which is materially a mortal sin, is not one formally, unless
the agent possesses full proximate power of suspecting this fact.

* In the early part of our article we referred with entire assent to Dr.
Walsh's argument in favour of the doctrine here assumed, that an act may
be directed to pleasurableness as to its absolute end, yet without inordina-
tion. But there are two condemned propositions, often cited against this
doctrine, which we ought expressly to notice. They are the 8th and 9th
condemned by Innocent XI. (Denz, nn. 1025, 6) : " Comedere et bibere."
&c., " Opus conjugii," &c." On the former of these, we need do no more
than refer to Dr. Walsh's remarks from n. 638 to n. 641 ; with
which we unreservedly concur. On the latter, what we would say
is substantially what Viva says : The constitution of lapsed human
nature being what it is — there is one most definitely marked out
class of pleasurable ends, which tend to exercise so special and abnor-
mal influence over a man's will, that his pursuit of them will quite
infallibly be " inordinate" (in our sense of that term) unless it
be kept in check by being subordinated to some virtuous end. Now it is
obvious that those who (like ourselves) affirm this, may utterly repudiate
the proposition condemned by Innocent XI. ; and yet entirely hold that
general doctrine concerning indifierent acts, which we have exhibited in our
text. It may be well to add, that F. Ballerini (on Gury, vol. ii. n. 908) has
some valuable remarks concerning the virtuous ends which may be pursued
in that particular class of acts to which we refer.

Another theological remark. The distinction which we have made,
between the " inordinate" and " non-inordinate" pursuit of a pleasurable
end, is closely connected (if indeed it be not identical) with the recognized
theological distinction, between pleasure being sought as the " ^nis positive
ultimua" and " negative ultimus" respectively. (See Dr. Walsh, n. 479 ;
and Ballerini on (jury, vol. i. n. 28.)

G 2

84 The Extent of Free JVill

In our view, it is almost impossible to exaggerate the momen-
tousness of this whole doctrine, for the true moral appreciation,
whether of those outside the Church, or of obdurate sinners
within her pale. To avoid prolixity, however, we will only
consider it in detail, as applicable to the obdurate Catholic whom
we were just now describing. He has sank into so abject and
degraded a moral condition, that he appreciatively prefers pretty
nearly every passing pleasure to God. There is hardly any
gratification, at all to his taste, from which he would abstain,
rather than gravely offend God. In other words — as the day
proceeds — almost every act which he elicits is gravely inordinate
and mortally sinful.

The only question to be further raised concerning him is,
whether these repeated gravely inordinate adhesions to pleasure
are in general formally, no less than materially, mortal ; or,
in other words, whether he have full proximate power of
suspecting their true character. And of this — as a general
fact — there can (we conceive) be no fair doubt. We are
throughout supposing him not to have abandoned the Faith. It
is plain that a Catholic, who for years has absented himself from
the Confessional — who is living in what he fully knows to be
the persistent and unrelenting violation of God's Laws — has an
abiding sense all day long, how degraded and detestable is his
mode of acting. He feels all day long that he " is drinking in
sin like water ;" though he would of course be unable to
express in theological terms his protracted course of evil. "^

Some of our readers may be disposed at first sight to regard
this view of things as startling and paradoxical, because of the
large number of instants during which it accounts such men to

* It might be thought at first sight, that there is some similarity between
the doctrine which we have submitted in the text concerning obdurate
sinners, and that advocated by Pascal in his "Fourth Provincial Letter."
But in truth the full doctrine which we would defend is the very extreme
contrary to Pascal's. The direct theme of his Fourth Letter— as laid down
in the title — is " Actual Grace;" and he reproaches the Jesuits for main-
taining, that " God gives man actual graces under every successive temp-
tation." For our own part — not only we cleave most firmly to the doctrine
here denounced by Pascal — but we are disposed to go further. We are
strongly disposed to accept the Fifteenth Canon of the Council of Sens ;
and to affirm, that" not even a moment passes" while a man is sui coawpos
" in which God does not stand at the door" of his heart, " and knock" by
His supernatural grace.

We need hardly say, that the Council of Sens was not Ecumenical ; but
Suarez speaks of its decrees as possessing very great authority. Of
course this is not the place for a theological discussion concerning the
frequency of Actual Grace. But our readers will observe the close con-
nection of our theological doctrine, with the doctrine which we have
defended in the text, on the constant urgency of man's Moral Yoice in the
natural order.

The Extent of Free Will. 85

be formally committing mortal sin. But to our mind, it is
precisely on this ground that any other view ought rather to be
considered startling and paradoxical ; as we pointed out a page or
two back. The unrepentant novice in sin (before his conscience
became obdurate) was most indubitably committing mortal sin
during pretty nearly the whole of his waking life. It would
surely be startling and paradoxical indeed, if his acts ceased to be
mortally sinful, merely because (through a course of unscrupulous
indulgence) he has come to treat his indifference to God^s Com-
mandments as a simple matter of course.

This doctrine of '^ grave inordination^' is (as we just now said)
entirely applicable to solving the other difficulties we have men-
tioned ; to appreciating the sins of pride and worldliness so widely
found among non-Catholic Theists ; to appreciating the various
sins of fanaticism and self-deception ; and, lastly, to appreciating
also the moral position of Antitheistic infidels. It would occupy
however, considerable space duly to develop and apply the
doctrine for this purpose ; and we must therefore abandon all
attempt at doing so. In regard indeed to the last-named class,
a certain theological point needs to be considered : because it
mav be suo^o^ested that — since mortal sin derives its characteristic
malignity from its being an offence against God — those who deny
His Existence cannot possibly commit it. This whole matter
however has been amply discussed by theologians, since a certain
proposition was condemned concerning " Philosophical Sin.^^ For
our own part therefore we will but briefly express our own
adhesion to those theologians — of whom Viva may be taken as a
representative instance — who hold, that the recognition of acts
as being intrinsically wicked, is ipso facto a recognition of them
as being offences against the paramount claims of God as rightful
Supreme Legislator ; and that this recognition suffices for their
mortally sinful character.

Otherwise what we have generally to say. about these Anti-
theists is this. We assume the truth of our own doctrine, as
exhibited in the preceding pages. But if this doctrine be true —
if God have really granted to all men a self-intimate sense of
Free Will — if He have really endowed them with an ineffaceable
intuition of right and wrong — if He is constantly pleading within
them in favour of virtue — He has, by so acting, invested them
with a truly awful moral responsibility. And it is perfectly
absurd to suppose, that a set of rebels can evade that respon-
sibility, by the easy process of shutting their eyes to manifest
facts. It will fall within the scope of the article which we pro-
pose for next January, to show in detail the monstrous inconsis-
tency which exists between the doctrine which these unhappy
men theoretically profess, and that which they practically imply

86 The Reorganization of Our Army,

in their whole habitual unstudied language concerning human
action.

In concluding our lengthy discussion, we must once more say-
how entirely we submit all that we have suggested to the judg-
ment of theologians. We indulge the hope however, that — even
where we may have unwarily fallen into error — we shall never-
theless have done good service, by obtaining for some of the
points we have raised more prominent and scientific considera-
tion, than (we think) they have hitherto received.

And there is a further matter concerning Free Will, on which
a word must be added. One principal argument of Determinists
is, that the Free Will doctrine would on one hand make psycho-
logical science impossible; while on the other hand it would
derange the whole practical machinery of life, by proclaiming the
inability to predict future human actions. Now it might be
thought that what we have now been urging on the extent of
Free Will, must strengthen the Determinist objection. But facts
are not so at all. The chief passages in which we replied to it
appeared in April, 1867, pp. 288-290; and in April, 1874, pp.
353-4. And if our readers will kindly refer to those pages, they
will see that our answer is as simply applicable in defence of our
own present thesis, as in defence of any more limited Libertarian
theory which can possibly be devised.

Here at length we bid farewell (for a considerable time at least)
to the Free Will controversy. We hope to have a paper ready for
next January, on "Agnosticism as such.'' And we hope to begin
it by a few pages — mainly taken from OUe Laprune's invaluable
work on " Moral Certitude" — in which we shall consider what
are those principles of investigation, which lead to the establish-
ment of certain knowledge on those all-important religious^
truths, which are within the sphere of human reason.

W. G. Ward.

Art. III.— the REORGANIZATION OF OUR ARMY.

"VrO one gifted with the ordinary amount of observation, an(
JLi who has watched for a series of years the course of publii
events in England, can come to any other conclusion than that'
in the matter of administrative reforms we are the most in-
judicious of civilized nations. No amount of abuses, and no
quantity of exposures respecting abuses, seem to have any
influence on the public mind for a long series of years. Things
are allowed to go their own way, no matter how much evil they

The Reorganization of Our Army, 87"

entail. We seem to trust a good deal to chance, and the rest to
Providence, in affairs which require only a little energy and a
small amount of reform to set right. No matter what may be
the amount of evil which a want of reform may cause, we are con-
tent to " let things slide/' as the Americans say : and to con-
gratulate ourselves on the supposed fact that " they will last our
time." And so, until some flagrant case occurs in which national
honour, or a large sum of money, or human life is forfeited to our
apathy, we let matters take their owncourseand shift for themselves.
At last a crisis arrives. For some reason or other we recognize
distinctly that we have been persistently following a road whicl*
must lead us on the wrong direction. Then comes the reaction.
We rush into impossible reforms with as much persistency as we
before continued on the wrong track. Every charlatan who has
a theory of his own to propound is listened to ; and the greater
the change from what has been to what is to be, the more firmly
are we impressed with the idea that at last the right and true
way of arriving at the desired end has been found.

No better illustration of the foregoing could be found than in
all that regards the reorganization of the army. For nearly half
a century — from the end of the great war with France in 1815,
until 1871-72 — no army reform, or change of any sort or kind
with regard to the services, was even so much as thought of by our
military authorities. Abuses in the service existed, as they will,
and must, exist in all human institutions, and were by no means
few in number. From time to time these were pointed out by
men of experience in the army, and changes of a decided, although
not a sweeping, character were advocated. It was urged again
and again by writers in various magazines and newspapers, that
a body of officers who not only obtained their first commissions,
but also subsequent promotion, without any kind of examination
— not even a medical one — as to their fitness for the service, was
an anomaly, which made ours the laughing-stock of other armies.
It was argued that to appoint a man to a regiment of cavalry
because he could pay £840 for his cornetcy, or to a corps of infantry
because he or his friends could command the sum of £450, was a
practice by no means in keeping with the spirit of the age. It
did not need much argument to prove that the rule by which, when
an officer became senior of his rank, and a vacancy taking place in
the rank above him, he could not be promoted unless he was pre-
pared to pay down a considerable sum of money lor his step, the
next officer below him passed over his head, was not exactly a
regulation which did our army much credit. These, and many
other abuses which had in the course of time become law, were
denounced as requiring immediate alteration ; but all to no
purpose whatever. The rule of the War Office and Horse Guards

88 The Reorganization of Our Army.

seemed to be that '^ whatever is, is right /^ and all sorts of
reforms were denounced as inadmissible. At last the change
came. It was only in 1849 that certain very mild examinations
were made indispensable, both for those who were appointed to
the army, and such as obtained promotion in the service. Nearly
ten years later — after the Crimean War — these examinations were
made harder than before ; but still there was nothing to complain
of in the ordeal which officers had to go through. After a time
an alteration came, and, to use a vulgar expression, it came with
a rush. The Franco- German War of 1870-71 surprised others
besides the great nation that lost so much of its former prestige
in that memorable struggle — if, indeed, that can be called a
struggle, in which victory from the very first is with one army,
and during which every week, nay, every day, adds to the laurels
those troops had already gained. The Germans carried everything
before them from the day they set foot in France ; and the rest of
Europe bore testimony to the truth of the saying, that '^ nothing
succeeds like success.^'' In England, army reform and army reor-
ganization became simply a national mania. We tried our best to
make our troops as like as possible to those of Germany. With one
simple exception, every change we attempted was a mistake, every
reform a most decided blunder. The abolition of the purchase
system was certainly a step in the right direction; the only
wonder being that so great a national disgrace had been allowed
to remain part and parcel of our military code until the nine-
teenth century was upwards of seventy years old. Already,
although barely a decade has passed since what may be called
"the Banker's Book qualification,^' for appointments to, and for
promotions when in, the service has been abolished, we look back
with wonder that such a rule could ever have existed, and with
still greater amazement that earnest men could ever have been
found who were strongly opposed to its being done away
with. But here our praise of army reform during the last
ten years must cease. With the single exception of the
abolition of purchase, all that has been efiected in the way of
change has simply and gravely deteriorated the service in every
possible way. And not only this. If we are to judge of the future
by the past, the time is not very far distant when we shall have
no army at all ; or, at any rate, when the greatly diminished
number and quality of our troops will reduce us to the level of a
third-class European kingdom and power.

On the 11th of May last, the Aldershot division of the army
paraded before Her Majesty. The nominal strength of thisi
division — the strength on paper — is 10,500 of all ranks.
There were present on this occasion two troops of Horse
Artillery ; two regiments of Heavy Dragoons, and one of

The Reorganization of Out Army. 89

Hussars ; five batteries of Foot Artillery ; one mounted and one
dismounted company of Engineers, and ten battalions of Infantry.
If all the different corps there had been of the strength which
they are supposed, and are said to be, there would not have been
less than between 10,000 to 12,000 men on parade. But for reasons
of which we shall make due mention presently, the whole division
mustered but 5,712 of all ranks, or not so many men as a single
German or French brigade would have done, and about 3,000
fewer than the ten infantry regiments present would have had on
parade a few years ago, before the short service system came
into vogue. To call some, nay, with two exceptions, any of the
infantry corps that paraded before the Queen on the above-named
occasion by the name of regiments, would be simple irony.
Thus, of a nominal strength of some 1,500 men and horses, the
three cavalry regiments only mustered 869 sabres ; whilst of
between 7,000 and 8,000 men that ought to have been present
with the ten infantry battalions, there were less than 4,000, all
told.* Of all these ten corps there were only two— viz., the 2nd
battalion of the 18th Hoyal Irish, and the 93rd Highlanders,
which mustered in anything like respectable numbers, the former
having 673, the latter 536 men under arms. On the other hand,
the 32nd Light Infantry, which has on its rolls 673 men, could
only muster 283 on parade; the famous 42nd Highlanders only
290 out of 610; and the 1st battalion of the 2nd Queen^s not
more than 287 out of 640. And yet this was a parade before
Her Majesty, at which every available soldier would be present.

The question naturally arises, where were the other men who
ought to have been under arras on this occasion ? The answer
requires some little knowledge of what is behind the scenes of
regimental life in these days. The fact is, that under our
present military system we do not, and cannot, get recruits to
fill up the cadres of our regiments, and are obliged to make shift
as occasion demands. When a battalion is ordered on foreign
service it is almost certain to be under the strength required for
a corps in the field. It is therefore made up by volunteers from
other regiments, and in nineteen cases out of twenty, it embarks
for India, the Cape, or wherever it may be going, with at least
half of its men who do not know their ofiicers, who do not
know each other, and whose officers do not know them. Surely
it is not a harsh thing to say that most, if not all, the several
small defeats we have met with of late years in different parts
of the world may be justly attributed to this cause?

Another reason for the paucity of soldiers in our ranks is, that
by far the greater number of the recruits we get are too young

* Standard, May 12, 1881.

90 The Reorganization of Our Army,

at the time of being enlisted to go through any really hard
work ; and are unable even to take their place in the ranks as
drilled men at a parade until they have been several months in
barracks, and have been well fed, well clothed, and well cared for.
When they first join the service they have, in point of fact, not
the physical strength to go through their duties. They are in
reality not men, but boys — boys whose youth and childhood have
been passed in poverty, and who require to go through a period
of bodily training before they are able to learn their drill, use of
the rifle, marching, and other work which they have to be taught.
Even as it is, we have only to look at the vast majority of men
who now fill our ranks to see that they are much too young to
endure any real physical hardship. This, it may be said, is a
fault that time will mend ; but according to the present rules of
the service just as a man becomes fit for hard work — just at the
time when he begins to be what our soldiers were in the days that
they could " go anywhere and do anything ^' — his term of
service in the ranks is over, and he must join the reserve. He is
by this time just about twenty-four years of age. He has for
some six years profited by the good feeding and regular habits
which barrack life forces him to observe. He is commencing to
be, and to feel like, a man. Hitherto his life has been one of train*
ing; now he is trained and ready for service. In India or any of
the colonies he would be simply invaluable. It was regiments of
men as he is now, and as he will be for the next fifteen years,
who performed the wonderful feats of marching under Nott, and
Pollock, and Gough, in former campaigns in Afghanistan, the
Punjaub war, and the great Indian Mutiny. But just as the
soldier has attained what may be called the commencement of
his usefulness, he is told that his services " with the colours" are :
at an end. He may, it is true, remain a few years longer with
his corps, but he is at liberty to join the reserve. As a matter
of course he does so. Men of his age and his class are always
ready and glad to change. He leaves his regiment just as he is
becoming an efficient soldier ; perhaps is sent home from India
just as he begins to be acclimatized to the country, and, having
learnt from his own experience what to eat, drink, and avoid, has
become ten times as valuable to the State as he was when he
landed in the East. He joins the reserve, and is supposed, by a
fiction of the War Office, to be ready at any moment to re-enter
the ranks and take his place once more as a soldier. But what is
the unvarnished truth ? In nineteen cases out of twenty, the
man who joins the reserve is of no more use to his country than
if he had emigrated to the Antipodes. He has been just long
enough a soldier to unfit him for civil life; he is too old to learn
any trade, as the chances are he was too young to do so before

The Reorganization of Our Army. ^1

he enlisted. He is not allowed to re-enlist in the array ; he knows
nothing, and becomes what our American cousins call "a loafer/'
AVere he permitted to rejoin the army, as in most cases he
desires to do, he would yet become a useful soldier ; but, as I
said before, he is not allowed to do so. His vacancy is filled by
some weakly lad who requires a couple of years good feeding
before he is fit for anything. Whole battalions are on parade
barely strong enough in numbers to pass for three, instead of ten,
companies each ; and when an Afghan or a South African war
comes upon us, we have to send out regiments composed, not of
men and officers who have known each other and worked together
for years, but of soldiers gathered from different corps, who pro-
bably never saw their commanders, nor their commanders them,
before they embark for foreign service.

And for what reason — with what intention — is this sacrifice of
the active service made for the reserve? We used to get on well
enough in former days, when there was no such thing as a reserve
in our military vocabulary. We fought through the Peqinsula,
at Waterloo, in India, in the Crimea, and always with a success
which was unknown in any other army in the world. Our men
knew their officers, and their officers knew them. Many years
ago I went through three campaigns in India with an English
regiment, and witnessed what British soldiers can endure, what
hardships they can go through, and what they can do when hand
to hand with an enemy. I was afterwards, as a special corre-
spondent of the press, all through the Franco-German war, from
what may be called the first serious battle, at Worth, to the capitu-
lation of Sedan ; and later, at several of the engagements near
Orleans and on the Loire. And I have no hesitation in saying that
I would risk all I have, and all I hope to have in this world, nay
my very life, upon the fact that our troops, as they used to be,
would fight and conquer either a French or a German force
at the odds of three to one against them. What, then, could
be the object of making such a change in our military
organization as that which, some eight years ago, was ordered
by the military authorities? The simple fact is, that when
certain so-called military reformers, who, for the misfortune
of the nation, have considerable influence at the War Office,
saw the results of the late war in France, they were seized
•with a complaint that has, not inaptly, been termed "The
German Army on the Brain." They saw how the German
troops had carried all before them, and jumped at the conclu-
sion that the best thing they could do was to make the English
army as like the legions of Prussia, of Saxony, and of Bavaria,
as they possibly could. If they had had the power they would
have introduced a system of general conscription : but they

92 The Reorganization of Our Army.

found it utterly impossible to do so. The country will stand a good
deal in the way of strange legislation, but compulsory service is
what never did, and never will, be accepted by Englishmen. No
other country in the whole world gives, or ever gave, a tenth of the
number of volunteers for service that we do ; but our fellow
countrymen would never be compelled to take service. However, if
these gentlemen could not have conscription, they were resolved
to have everything else that Continental armies rejoice in ; and of
these, the first and chief would be limited enlistment, and a
Reserve Force which could be called under arms when wanted at
a day^s notice.

Now, in my humble opinion, there are two insurmountable
objections to both these alterations in our military organizations.
To begin with, our army is infinitely more a Colonial, or an Indian
force than it is a European one. We don^t want a large number
of troops, either to keep revolutionists in order, or to be prepared
against foreign invasion. What we do require are steady, seasoned
battalions, ready to embark for any part of the world at a day's
warning, composed of men who can do us good service in any
war which may take place in our Indian Empire or any of
our Colonies. Other countries have quite different wants from
ours. With the single exception of Algeria, neither France,
Germany, Italy, nor Austria, has any foreign land which it has
to protect and keep in order by means of their own troops.
They have to be prepared against invasion from other powers,
and to be ever ready to repel an enemy. With them conscrip-
tion, the training of young men to the use of arms, and the
necessary consequences of a reserve, are matters of vital import-
ance. For them a reserve is a reality as well as a necessity.
Their peasants, and even their working men, seldom, if ever, leave
the district, the village — nay, rarely the very house — in which they
were born. But it is far otherwise with us. The English
working man is by nature, to say nothing of inclination, a
wanderer on the face of the earth. He may be a native of
Liverpool or Manchester. If he finds work in the town he was
born in, he remains there ; if not, he goes to Newcastle, or comes
to London, or perhaps emigrates to Canada, the States, Australia,
or New Zealand. In Germany, France, and all other European
countries, every citizen is registered, and if he changes his
abode he must give notice of the same to the authorities, unless
he has passed the age when he is liable to be called on to serve.
When the war of 1870 broke out, Germans who were in business,
or serving as clerks in London, Paris, New York, Chicago, New
Orleans, and San Francisco, were summoned by telegrams to the
different German consuls, to report themselves at the head-
quarters of their respective corps d'armee, and with a few very

The Reorganization of Our Army, 9^

rare exceptions they did so. Their different whereabouts in the
furthest off foreign lands were as well known as if they had
never left the immediate neighbourhood of Berlin, Munich,
Frankfort, or Bremen. I remember, after the terrible battle of
Worth was over, and MacMahon^s corps d'armee was in full
retreat for the Vosges, assisting a German corporal of dragoons,
who was fearfully wounded, and who asked me to procure a priest
to give him the last sacraments. I did so, and in less than half
an hour after receiving the Viaticum he expired. But before
his death he gave me a letter to post to his wife at San Francisco,
and asked me to write and tell her he had died as a Catholic
ought. This same gentleman — for by his manners and con-
versation he showed himself to be such, and he spoke English
almost as well as I did — told me that he had been for some years
at the head of a prosperous firm in the Far West of America ;
that he was, however, still liable to be called on to serve in the
army, as he belonged to the reserve. He had been summoned
to Cologne by a cable telegram to his consul in San Francisco,
and had obeyed the order. Had he not done so he would have
forfeited all his civil rights as a German citizen. And he
informed me — what I afterwards found to be the case — that there
were some hundreds of his fellow-countrymen who, like himself,
had come from different parts of the world to take up arms at
the call of the Government. Would Englishmen, Irishmen, or
Scotchmen submit to be so ruled ? I think not. We are ready
enough to enlist for any thing, for any service, or for any
danger, but it must be of our own free will that we do so.
And unless an Army Reserve can be counted upon to the extent
of at least ninety per cent, as certain to turn up when wanted, it
is of no use whatever in the day of trouble. An officer on
ManteuffeFs staff told me that throughout the different German
camps, the average of reserve men who did not put in an
appearance, when called upon to join their respective regiments
when the war broke out, was a fraction under three per cent. ;
I wonder how many there would be of our English Reserve who
would answer their names if called upon to take up arms. It
would not be from cowardice that they failed; but sinaply
because they had gone away and could not be found.

No ; what we wanted in the way of reorganization of our army
was not a mere bad imitation of the German system, but certain
amendments and reforms suitable for our own wants. The base
upon which our regimental system is built is the esprit de corps,
which only those who have been in active service, and have done
years of regimental duty, do, or can understand. That esprit
de corps the late reorganization of the army has all but, if not
quite, destroyed. The reason is very plain to those who are, or

^4 The Reorganization of Our Army.

who have heen, behind the scenes. Unfortunately for the country
our army reformers are, with few exceptions, staff officers, the
majority of whom know little or nothing of regimental work ; and
what little experience they may have had of it they seem to take
a pride in forgetting. With them — or at any rate with most of
them — the army, and all that belongs to it, exists upon paper.
Their pride is in their " Returns," " Reports," " General Orders,^'
and '^ Field States,^' not in the men, the horses, or the drill of
their companies, troops, squadrons, or regiments. Had the re-
organization of the army been the work of officers with regimental
experience, it would have been a very diffierent affair from the
" meddle and muddle " changes which the service has been sub-
ject to for the last ten years, and of which the end seems as far
from being visible as ever. But, so long as the tax-paying public
is pleased with the condition of our troops, what right has any
one to grumble ? With the exception of the Ariny and Navy
Gazette there was not a single London paper that did not publish
a gushing article about the review before Her Majesty on the
11th May last. Some persons may perhaps be of opinion that
this praise of what was simply a display of our national military
weakness only showed ignorance of the subject. As a matter of
course the day will come — in such cases it always does — when
the series of blunders which our military chiefs have sanctioned
will be made clear to the general public, and then the scare will
in all probability bring about changes which will be, if possible,
worse than the evils now complained of. And yet that would be
difficult. If the most complete division of the British army at
home — the force we should look to in the event of any sudden
war — cannot muster for a parade before the Queen of England
more than 5,700 men out of a nominal strength of 10,500, where
is it possible to look for troops in the day of national trials or
troubles ?

As regards regimental officers, the reorganization of our army-
has, if possible, done more harm and worked more effectually to
destroy the old esprit de corps which was so marked throughout
the service, than has been the case with the rank and file. The
abolition of the purchase system was, as I have said before, a
reform which can hardly be too much praised. If the War
Office had then left matters alone, regimental promotion would
by degrees have regulated itself. But there seems to have
been, and there is still, a dreadful fright lest officers should remain
in the service too long. With a view to prevent this, two regu-
lations have been adopted, which would do credit to the bitterest
enemy this country ever had, for they have gone far, and will go
further still, to destroy the efficiency of the service, to make
officers discontented with their lot, and to increase the want of

The Reorganization of Our Army-. 95

personal knowledge which the commissioned ranks used to have
of their men^ and which the rank and file formerly had of their
officers. The two rules I allude to are : first, that which makes
it obligatory for the commanding officer of a regiment to retire
upon half-pay after he has commanded his corps for five years ;
and, secondly, that which forces every captain of the age of forty
to leave the service, take his pension, and, although barely in his
prime, to become an idle man for the rest of his life. It would
be very difficult to say which of these regulations has done, or
will hereafter do, more harm — which of the two is more calculated
to subvert and destroy that love of the corps which was the
distinguishing mark of ninety-nine out of every hundred regi-
mental officers in the British army. To begin with, it requires
no great experience of army life to know that it takes a com-
manding officer at least a couple of years before he feels confidence
in himself, and is able to command the regiment with credit to
himself and advantage to the service. In the English army the
officers of a corps live in almost perfect equality when ofi" duty.
The only exception to this rule is the commanding officer. When
the senior major of a corps succeeds to the chief post in that corps,
it takes him some little time — some few months, or perhaps a
year — before he can, without ofi"ending his former associates and
comrades, cast ofi" all intimacy with them. It is also necessary
for a commanding officer to be for some time at the head of a
regiment before he can command that respect for his orders and
wishes that is essential to his command being a success. To
direct well a regiment of cavalry, or a battalion of infantry, to
acquire a personal knowledge of all the officers and men, and
work the whole complicated machine with credit and efficiency,
is not an undertaking in which any man can be guided by the
mere rules and regulations of the service. To do so well, seems
to come as a matter of course to some officers, whilst there are not
a few who would never, no matter what amount of experience
they had, get through their task with advantage to themselves
or the service. With some men the command and direction of
their fellows seems to come naturally, but there are others who
never can, and never will, acquire the art. Amongst regimental
officers the opinion is almost universal that five years at the head
of a regiment is much, too long a time for a bad commanding
officer, and far too short a period for a good one.

Most unfortunately for the British army, the ruling idea of
those who have had the reorganization of the service in their
hands seems to have been that everything can be done by rule
and regulation, and that it is as easy to make a commanding
officer efficient by printed orders as it is to determine of what colour
the facings of a uniform or the length of a sword-belt ought to

96 The Reorganization of Our Army.

be. There never was — there never could — be a greater mistake
as regards the command of those, no matter to what rank in life
they belong, who form the component parts of our regiments.
With Germans, hard military laws that admit of no deviation
whatever, may work well ; but they never will do so with English,
Irish, or Scotchmen. A good commanding officer can no more
be made by "The Mutiny Act/' or "The Queen's Regulations/'
than an able statesman can be formed by studying the volumes
of Hansard, or by reading the leading articles of the Times.
To command a corps well and efficiently an officer must not only
serve a training to the work ; he must possess in no small degree
qualifications which will enable him to see that all men are not
alike, and that the rule over that complicated machine called a
regiment requires judgment, tact, and discretion in no ordinary
degree. There are some men who seem specially cut out for the
berth and responsibilities of command, whilst there are others who
never would acquire the needful qualifications if they were left,
not five, but twenty-five years at the head of a corps.

There are some commanding officers upon whom this five years'
rule falls especially hard. Take, for instance, the cases of Colonel
Alexander of the 1st Dragoon Guards, and of Lord Ralph Kerr
of the 10th Hussars. The former of these two officers obtained
command of his regiment in December, 1876. At the end of
1878, or very early in 1 879, the corps was ordered out to the Cape,
where it has been ever since, broken up into detachments, a
portion of it having been since sent on to India. In December
of the present year, Colonel Alexander, a man still in the prime
of life, must resign his command and go on half pay, after having
virtually only had his regiment together for two years. As a
matter of course every corps that goes on field service like that
in South Africa gets more or less, so to speak, out of form, and
has to be in a great measure reformed, and has to be redrilled and
remounted when it goes back into quarters. If all goes well at
the Cape, and the services of the 1st Dragoon Guards can soon
be dispensed with. Colonel Alexander will have just begun to get
his regiment into working order once more, when he must lay
down his command, and, after an active regimental work extend-
ing over thirty-four years, retire into private life, and become an
idle man for the rest of his days.

The case of Lord Ralph Kerr is, in some respects, even harder
than that of Colonel Alexander. This officer went to India with
his corps in 1873. The effects of the climate obliged him to
come home on sick leave in 1876, and whilst at home he
succeeded to the command of his regiment. He had not
recovered from his illness when the 10th was ordered up to the
Afghan frontier, and Lord Ralph at once set out from England

The Reorganization of Our Army, 97

to join. He has been with the regiment ever since; but his
five years' command has come to an end, and before these lines
are in print, on the 31st of May, he will have to retire on half-pay,
although barely forty-five years of age; to leave a regiment in
which he knows every officer and every trooper, and which he
commanded with great credit to himself during a very difficult
period in the field.

I have selected the cases of these two officers as peculiarly
hard, partly on account of their respective regiments being
amongst the first in the Army List, but chiefly because they have
both done good service in the field. There are, however, many
others whose treatment is equally hard, whose reward for long
and faithful service is that they are forced into idleness whilst
yet comparatively young men, and just as their experience in
regimental life and work might be of the greatest use to the
service and to their country.

Some persons might object to the principle I have laid down —
viz., that five years is much too long a time for a bad commanding
officer to be at the head of a corps, and far too short a period for
an efficient and really good man to hold that position. It
might be asked who shall, and who can, decide to which category
a commanding officer belongs. To this I reply, of what use is a
General of Brigade, or Division, if he cannot class the command-
ing oflScers who come under his notice ? There are such things as
half-yearly and annual inspections. Reports to the War Office and
the Horse Guards must surely be of some service and use in show-
ing the authorities who are, and who are not, fit and suitable men
to command corps. An eflScient colonel can hardly hide his light
under a bushel, nor can an inefficient one make himself appear
other than what he really is. If he attempts to do so, there is
always the corps he commands as evidence against him. English-
men— Celts, as well as Saxons — are much the same, whether they
form part of the House of Lords, of the House of Commons, of the
professional classes, of the labouring multitude, of the crew of a
vessel, or of the officers or men of a regiment. They are the
easiest people in the world to rule with a little management, but
utterly impossible to govern by hard and forced regulations, like
the Germans, and many other European nations. Everything
depends upon the individual who rules them. If he is judicious
and wise all goes well ; if otherwise, everything goes wrong. I
have seen — as every man who has served any time in the army
must — in the same cantonments in India, and in the same
garrison or camp at home, two regiments living under the same
rules, governed by the same regulations, and doing exactly the
same duty. In the one all would be harmony amongst the
officers, and good order and discipline amongst the men ; in the

VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.'] h

98 The Reorganization of Our Army.

other all would be discord and annoyance and worry in the
commissioned ranks, with an utter absence of what a regiment
ought to be in the barrack rooms. And yet in both corps the
mess and barrack rooms were recruited from amongst the same
classes. The reason of such a great difference was that the
commanding officer of one regiment was an efficient man, whilst
he who was at the Lead of the other was exactly the reverse.

I have dwelt at some length upon the question of command-
ing officers, because I believe that it is upon their qualifications
that the efficiency of the whole army depends. If all regiments
could be well and judiciously commanded, the army which they
compose would be perfect. And in exact proportion as they are
well or ill commanded, the service is efficient or otherwise. At
the same time it is utterly impossible to lay down any rules or
regulations by which good commanding officers can be secured.
And, as every one of any regimental experience knows well, men
fitting and suitable for the post are not so plentiful as might be
imagined. In a word, and to repeat what I have said before, five
years is much too long a time to entrust a regiment to the care
of a weak, inefficient, and above all an injudicious, colonel ; and
far too short a period for one who has the needful qualifications.
I have more than once seen a corps which has been well com-
manded fall away in six months, or less, from perfect efficiency
to exactly the contrary, and this because it had changed a very
good for an exceedingly indifferent commander. The five years
rule — the rule which makes it imperative upon a commanding
officer to retire upon half-pay at the end of five years — is so well
calculated to injure the service that it almost seems as if it had
been invented by some arch-enemy of this country.

And the same may be said of the new regulation which
obliges any captain who has attained the age of forty, and has not
yet been presented to a majority, to retire upon a pension. To
begin with, the fact of making age an absolute test of efficiency
or otherwise, is itself of a very great fallacy. This, too, is one of
those hard-and-fast rules which we have copied from the Germans,
but which are utterly unsuited to our race and the nature of
Englishmen. There are many men of thirty, who, owing to a defec-
tive constitution, intemperate living, or other causes, are, in point of
fact, older than others who were born ten, or even fifteen years
before them. Slow promotion amongst officers is no doubt bad,
but it is one of those things which correct themselves; and to
avoid which, such an injustice as the one I have pointed out is
rather too high a price to pay. Every officer would, as a matter
of course, like to obtain the rank of major as quickly as possible.
If he is not promoted before he is forty years of age it may be
set down.as pretty certain that the fault is not his own. To punish

^he Reorganization of Our Army. 99

him for his misfortunes — to set him adrift on the world on a small
pension, at an age when he is too old to learn any new calling —
is a piece of injustice of which we have few examples in British
law. What between captains who are forty years of age, and
colonels who have commanded corps for five years, we shall soon
be like some of the far west States of America, where it is quite
exceptional for any one in civil life not to have military rank ;
where the hack carrias^e is driven by a " colonel/' and a " captain "
waits on you at the table d'hote dinner, and a " major'' will take
a few cents for holding your horse.

But there is another very large class of persons to whom these
rules of compulsory retirement from the army ought not to be
without interest. Whab does the British taxpayer say to the
increased, and yearly increasing, number of officers, who, although
fully able, and^ in almost every case, most anxious to remain at
their posts, are forced to take a pension, or to retire on half-pay ?
It is calculated that during the present year no fewer than fifty
colonels whose five years of command have expired will be obliged
to do this, and that about one hundred and fifty captains, who have
attained the age of forty, but who have not yet been promoted to
majorities, will be made to take their pension. Let this go on
for a few years, and our half-pay list will be very much larger
than it was at the end of the war with France — more numerous,
in fact, than the list of officers on full- pay.

Nor is this all. Let any one dine at a regimental mess, or mix
for a few days with the officers of any corps, and he will at once
perceive what a tone of discontent with the present, and of fear for
the future, exists in the service. Everlasting, never-ending
change of rules, regulations, and warrants, seems to be the order
of the day at the War OflSce; so much so that no one knows or
can form any idea what a day may bring forth. An ofiicer has,
let us say, entered the service at nineteen or twenty years of age.
At thirty-six or seven he finds himself well up the list of captains,
but knows that it will be at least five or six years before he
can be promoted to a majority. In olden days he would have
looked upon himself as a very fortunate individual ; but now he
is of all men the most miserable. He is unhappy by anticipation,
for be is aware that in two or three years, as the case may be, he
will be obliged to retire from a service that it is his pride and his
glory to belong to, in which he has spent the best years of his life,
and in which he hoped to gain honours and reward in his old age.
He is still young ; but he is obliged to leave his regiment, and to
be an idle man for the future. It is true that the time when he
must do this is still a year or two ofi"; but the anticipation of the
evil renders him inefficient for present duties ; or at any rate he
does not perform his work with the same zeal and activity as be

h2

100 The Reorganization of Our Army.

used to. And as there are two or three captains who come under
this rule in almost every regiment — two or three men who see
that they must become idlers on the face of the earth long years
before old age shall have overtaken them — who will say that the
service in general is not affected for the bad by such a rule?
1 was always an enemy of the old purchase system, and believe that
it was an excellent thing for the army when it was abolished; but
candour compels me to admit that, with all its many drawbacks
and imperfections^ promotion by purchase did not bring about any-
thing like as many evils as the compulsory retirement of captains
when forty years of age has done and will yet do. A more un-
wise or unjust regulation it would, indeed, be difficult for the brain
of man to devise. Like the rest of our new rules for the re-
organization of the army, it would really seem as if the destruction
of all esprit de corps, and of whatever has hitherto made our
regiments what they are, and not the greater efficiency of the
service, was what those aimed at who framed the greater number
of the regulations which have appeared since 1871-72 — which
was about the time when our military authorities became
inoculated with an intense admiration of the German army,
and, so far as can be judged by their actions, determined to
make our own a bad imitation of that service.

It seems that we are now on the eve of another change in
what has in the last decade been altered, and re-altered, so often.
The old familiar names and numbers of our regiments are to be
done away with, and the army is now to be divided into what
are to be called " territorial regiments/^ To criticize too severely
a scheme that has yet to be tried would be unfair. But this new
reorganization of the service bears upon the face of it not a little
that is in every way most objectionable. To begin with, it is a
removal of old landmarks, old designations, and old titles by
which almost every regiment in the service has been known for
the best part of a century, and some for even longer. Again, it
seems almost like a bad practical joke, in so small a country as
the United Kingdom, to designate regiments as belonging exclu-
sively to one district, or town, or country. As I said before, the
classes from which the rank and file of our army are recruited
are wanderers over the country, and very often over the whole
earth. An illustration of this occurred to a friend of mine last
year. He was watching a Scotch militia regiment at Church
parade, and was surprised to see that, out of some six hundred and
odd men, upwards of a hundred were marched to the Catholic
Chapel. He said to one of the officers that he had no idea there
were so many Catholics in a Scotch Lowland country, but was
told that of those on their way to hear mass, not more than five
or six were Scotchmen, the rest being one and all Irish. And so

The Reorganization of Our Army, 101

it is with every battalion, either of regulars or auxiliary troops in
the land. Such a thing as a regiment of* which_, not all, but even
a considerable portion, belong to the same county, does not
exist ; and I question whether it ever will. Our army is one of
volunteers. It is not, and never will be, raised by conscription.
We must take our men as we can, and as we find them willing
to enlist. To imagine that a London artisan will join a regiment
any th€ more readily because it is called " The Royal Middle-
sex;''' or that a Preston mill-hand, out of work, will prefer "The
Lancashire^'' to "The Yorkshire," or "The Lincolnshire^'
regiment, is sheer folly. If the War Office authorities take upon
themselves to direct that men are only to be enlisted for the
corps which bears the name of the town, or shire, or district of
which they are natives, the result will simply be that our
recruiting will come to a standstill, and we shall not even get as
many men as we do now. My own experience, which extended
over fourteen years in the service, half spent in an infantry and
half in a cavalry regiment, taught me that the best men we used
to get for the army were those who came from a distance to
enlist, and not those who joined the regiments stationed in the
towns where they resided. And still better — of a better class —
were those who enlisted for the old local Indian regiments, and
who cast in their lot with corps that were permanently stationed
in a far-off land.

If, instead of the many new fangled organizations which have
been ordered during the past ten years, the War Office had spent
a fourth of the money that has been wasted upon attempting to
Germanize our army, in giving our men better pay and providing
good pensions for them in their old age, the service would be in
a very different condition from what it now is. Our recruits
ought not to enlist before they are twenty years of age, and their
engagement ought to be for at least .fifteen years. A trained,
drilled, and disciplined soldier of from thirty to thirty-five years
of age is worth two, if not three, of the raw lads, without stamina
or strength, who now fill our ranks, and who leave the service to
join that military myth called "The Reserve,'"' just as they come
to an age when they can do good work. This is more
especially the case in India, where, until a soldier is acclimatized,
he is almost useless for real active service. I remember many
years ago, when on service in Upper Scinde with the 40th
Kegiment, a sudden order being given for the corps to proceed at
once to relieve a native infantry detachment that was surrounded
by the enemy. Before starting, the commanding officer ordered
that all men who had not been two years in India should be left
behind with the sick. We marched out of camp about 5 p.m.,
and in sixteen hours had reached our destination, a distance of

102 The Reorganization of Our Army,

fifty-two miles off. It was terribly hard work. For twenty odd
miles our route was across a desert, in which not a drop of water
was to be found. We halted every hour, and twice daring the
night stopped long enough to make some coffee for the men. The
result of the precaution taken by our commanding officer was
that in a battalion eight hundred strong, there were only eleven
men who had to fall out during the whole march; and of these it
was discovered that four had only been out of hospital a very
few days, but had managed to join their companies before the
regiment marched. Could such a feat be performed by any of
the battalions filled with mere lads, as all our regiments have
been since the Limited Enlistment Act came into full operation ?
To this question there can be but one answer.

In a country like England, where industrial enterprises are so
numerous, and where there is a constant demand for steady
middle-aged men to fill various situations of trust — situations in
which education of a high standard is not essential — it would not
be difficult to provide for our discharged soldiers. The London
Corps of Commissionaires is a proof of this. And it is a standing
shame to our Government that something of the kind has never
yet been taken in hand by the War Office. Moreover, veterans
who have done their work ought not to be left without a pension
which would provide them with every reasonable comfort when
they get old.

Another anomaly — or, to speak more plainly, a great national
disgrace, and a decided hindrance towards our ever recruiting the
quantity and the quality of men which we might otherwise enlist
for the service — is the way in which our soldiers' wives, and, still
worse, their widows, are treated. It is acknowledged that the
best soldiers we have are the married men ; or at least such used to
be the case before the present system of enlisting mere boys and
sending them away before they become men came into force. We
used to, and we do still for that matter, allow a certain number
of the men to marry. But when these had to be ordered abroad
with their regiments, their wives and children were left to the
mercy of the charitable, or to the care of those who liked to look
after them. To their credit be it said, the present Government
has intimated that a provision for soldiers^ wives and children
will be included in the army estimates for the present year ; a
measure that has certainly not been determined upon before time.
Had this been done twenty or thirty years ago a vast deal of
money that has been lost through desertions, and the punish-
ments brought about by that offence, would have been saved to
the country. Even as it is there is no certain provision of any
kind for the widows and orphans of soldiers who die in the
service; but it is to be hoped that, if the mania for Germanizing

The Reorganization of Our Army. 103

the service comes to an end^ and common sense prevails, we shall
see these poor women and children saved from having to go on
the parish when their husbands and fathers die, or are killed, in
the service of their country.

If we may put any faith in the old adage, that '^ what every-
body says must be true,'' no man in England is more opposed to
the reorganization of the service on the German system than
the Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief of the British
army. And it must be admitted that, wherever and whenever
the Duke has had an opportunity during the last few years, he has
given utterance to words which, when one reads between the lines,
i'ully corroborate what the world believes his views to be. One
thing His Royal Highness has several times — and once, in par-
ticular, at a dinner given at the Mansion House about eighteen
months ago — insisted upon. It is, as I said before, that our
army is not like that of any other European nation. The army
corps, divisions, brigades, and regiments of other nations, to say
nothing of their system of conscription and the men they have
on reserve, are formed for the purpose of defending their
own frontiers from the invasion of their neighbours. Our
regiments, on the other hand, are almost entirely kept up
for the purpose of maintaining our colonies, and preserving
the latter in our possession, free from internal as well
as external foes. Our forces at home are recruiting depots,
from which our troops in India and the other parts of the
Empire are, so to speak, to be fed. When a regiment
comes home it remains in the United Kingdom a certain
number of years for the purpose of regaining its strength and
numbers, and qualifying for service abroad. Nothing is more
improbable — I might almost say impossible — than an invasion of
this country by any foreign Power. But, supposing for an
instant that such an event did happen, it is not only upon our
regular troops that we should depend. To begin with, the
enemy would find a very awkward adversary to contend with
in the fleet. But should the invader land on our shores,
what would be the result ? This same question, almost in these
very words, was put to me by a German officer the day after the
taking of Sedan, when he and so man}^ of his fellow-countrymen
were drunk with the insolence of victory. And what I said to
that individual — who was polite enough to tell me that before
many years were over these Islands would have to submit to the
German legions as France had been forced to do — I repeat here,
viz., that tkousands might invade this country, but barely units
would ever return alive. To say nothing of a militia, volunteers,
and the regulars we have at home, the nation would rise as one man,
and those we could not kill in battle, our very women and children

104 The Reorganization of Our Army,

would poison in the food they eat and the water they drank.
When talking of the defence of our country, we should not forget
that the volunteers form a body of men most admirably adapted
for this work. It is all very well lor a certain school of military
Germanizers — men who believe that every soldierlike ordinance
in this world comes forth from Germany — to despise and sneer
at a force of men who give up so much of their time to learn the
art of soldiery and the means of using their rifles. But from
what I have seen of the much-be-praised soldiers who invaded
France with such success, I would rather have fifty average
English or Scotch volunteers behind me in the event of a deadly
struggle, than twice that number of Prussians, Bavarians, or
Saxons. There is no institution, military or civil, that foreigners
wonder at, and admire so much, as our volunteers ; and yet there
is no body of men kept so much in the background. The
authorities seem never tired of washing our dirty linen in
the shape of battalions only two or three hundred strong
before the whole world, but they appear to shun showing
strangers a body of men who, when the conditions under which
they engage, their numbers, and their proficiency in their work,
are taken into consideration, must certainly be regarded as the
finest and most patriotic body of men that any country has ever
seen. Of these, as indeed of all our forces, whether regular,
militia, or volunteers, may we truly apply the words of Marshal
(General) Soult to a relative of mine, who was taken prisoner by
the French on the retreat to Corunna. " Your men,^' said the
marshal, speaking of the English troops, ^' have one quality
which will always make them good soldiers under all circum-
stances— they invariably obey their ofiicers."

That a certain amount of reorganization was, and is still,
required in our army there can be no doubt whatever. Every
human institution must from time to time be more or less
changed or reformed. But in England we have made the great
mistake of taking as what we should imitate military institutions,
with which our own have little, if anything, in common. A
German and an English soldier are no more like each other than
an English farm labourer is like an Italian vine- dresser. On this
part alone of my subject a volume of considerable size might be
written. Take a single instance of the discipline in the two
armies. I remember seeing, a few hours after the battle of Worth
was over, a party of German infantry paraded for guard duty.
One of the men had his belts dirty, or his accoutrements in bad
order, upon which the oflScer inspecting the detachment%'ery coolly
slapped the offender's face. Would such a thing be possible in
our own service ? And yet there has been introduced into our
military system during the last ten years anomalies which, to an

The Reorganization of Our Army, 105

English military man, are nearly as outrageous as this. Take, for
instance, certain pages whicli have been officially inserted in
our " Army List" for the last few years, headed " Mobilization
of the Forces at Home/^ Let no Englishman, on any account, who
has a spark of patriotism in him, allow any foreign friend who
understandsEnglish tosee this extraordinary document, which reads
like a bad joke, or an untimely squib on the army. In it will
be found a very pretty distribution of no less than eight — purely
imaginary — '^ Army Corps;" but with this trifling shortcoming,
namely, that these Corps have imaginary divisions, which have —
also imaginary — brigades ; and the latter are chiefly composed of
regiments stationed anywhere in the kingdom. One example of
this will be enough. I have before me a list of " The First Army
Corps," of which the head-quarters are at Colchester. In the
first brigade of the First Division, the three battalions which
compose the brigade are certainly stationed at Colchester. But
as regards the second brigade of the same Division, the three
battalions are stationed at Fermoy, Castlebar, and at Buttevant !
Again, the first brigade of the Second Division of the same corps
has its head-quarters at Chelmsford ; but the three battalions
composing that brigade are at the Curragh, at Tipperary, and at
Birr."^ And this is called the ^^ Mobilization of the Forces at
Home." Let us hope that when the scheme of the new territorial
army is matured it will be found free from such follies and
absurdities as what I have here pointed out.

Want of space prevents me from even giving an outline of what
has been, and what ought to be, done with regard to the reorganiza-
tion of our Indian army. It was my lot, after an absence of twenty
years from the East, to revisit that country in 1875-76, as one
of the Special Correspondents with His Royal Highness the
Prince of Wales. What I saw of our. army there as it is, and
as compared with what it was in former days, I will, with the
permission of the Editor, give an account of in a fature Number
of this Ileview. For the present I can only hope to have made
it pretty clear that the reorganization of our Home Forces, so
far, and in the direction it has been carried out up to the present
time, is, to say the least of it, in every way simply a series of
military blunders.

M. Laing Meason.

See Hart's "Army List," January, 1881, p. 6Q.

( 106 )

Art. IV.— recent WORKS ON THE STATE OF
GERMANY

IN THE FIFTEENTH AND BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY,
BY GERMAN AUTHORS.

HISTORICAL literature in Germany has for some time past
been stamped with a certain hostile exasperation ai^ainst
the Catholic Church, which will remain for some years a blot on
the profound erudition of a country we are accustomed to look
upon as a centre of learnin^^. The unity of Germany effected
since the war of 1870-1871 cannot be considered the direct
cause of certain erroneous exaggerations in matters of history :
yet the two facts are really connected.

It is no secret that at the proclamation of the Empire on the
victorious conclusion of the war, Pius IX. made the first advances
towards friendly relations with the new Imperial throne ; it is
also known that these advances were received with coldness, not
to say contempt, at the Court of Berlin, and that the German
Government lent all its power to protect and foster a schism in
the Catholic Church by at once granting a pension of several
thousand thalers to Dr. Reinkens, elected bishop by a few
hundred Catholics who protested against the dogma of the
Infallibility.

Several writers, following in Dr. Reinken's footsteps, have
devoted their energies to seeking proofs that a protestation
against the Church, which might appropriately be styled " Old
Catholicism,'^ existed a hundred years ago, and continued through
all the Middle Ages ; and that, beginning at Claudius of Turin
and Hincmar of Rheims, the line of ^' Old Catholic" bishops
has never been interrupted. Truly these historians see '' Old
Catholicism^'' everywhere — in the antagonists of Gregory VII.
as well as in those of Boniface VIII.

Daring the last three years we have been gaining ground.
The troubled waters are settling into calm, and from the still
deep have risen a series of writers who, lifting their voice, have
proclaimed certain historical facts too long hidden, and certain
details relating to the Church and to civilisation never known
till to-day.

Their works, far from being controversial, are but a simple
exposition of facts, related with the truthfulness of a conscientious
historian, and grouped with the eye and appreciation of an artist.
They acknowledge frankly the faults of eminent men, regardless
of their rank in history. They describe, they paint, they de-
lineate with photographic minuteness even, but they do not

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 107

disguise. This straightforwardness, which commends itself
specially to the English mind, can in the end, indeed, but prove
favourable to the Church and to the civilized and duly instructed
section of mankind.

The appreciation of the public is proved by the fact that Dr.
Janssen^s"^ work, which we here place first, has run through five
editions in three years. The title of his work is " History of the
German People from the end of the Middle Ages/H The second
volume appeared in 1879, and continues the history of civiliza-
tion down to the year 1525, including the great social disturbance
occasioned by the " Reformation" and other causes.

Other works have been published quite lately containing certain
biographical details which Dr. Janssen could only glance at, and
they form an admirable amplification of his History of the German
People and their Civilization. The Abbe Dacheux, rector of
Neudorff-bei-Strassburg, has written the biography of John
Geiler,]; the famous preacher who lived at the end of the fifteenth
century. Herr Holier, professor at the University of Prague,
and the Abbe Lederer, have given us the biography of two men,
renowned church-administrators in the fifteenth and beginning
of the sixteenth centuries. Professor Hofler, after devoting
several years to the study of his subject, has published the bio-
graphy of Hadrian VI., a native of Holland. § The Abbe
Lederer, in answer to a question given at an examination by the
Wurzbourg University, wrote the life of John, Cardinal Torque-
mada, the great upholder of the Papacy in its struggle against
the decrees of the Councils of Constance, Basle, &c. &c.||

Lastly, Herr Pastor, Doctor of Historical Science, and '^ privat
docent^^ at the University of Innsbruck, publishes a work in
which he describes the efforts made by Charles V., in the first

* The Abbe Janssen, professor at Frankfort, has just been raised by
Leo Xni. to the dignity of Apostolic Protonotary.

t " Geschichte des deutschen Volkes, seit deni Ansgange des Mittelal-
ters." Erster Band : Deutschlands allgemeine Zustande beim ausgang des
Mittelalters ; 6^ Autiage. Zweiter Band: vora Beginne der politisch-
kirchUchen Revolution bis zum Ausgang der socialen Revolution von
1525. Preiburg im Breisgau : Herder'sche Yerlagshandlung, 1880 and
1879. 1st vol., price 6 mks. 60 ; 2nd vol., price 6 mks. 30.

J " A Catholic Reformer at the end of the Fifteenth Century : John
Geiler, of Kaisersberg, Preacher at the Cathedral of Strassburg, 1478-
1510. A Study of his Life and Times." Paris : Ch. Delagrove; Strass-
burg: Derivaux, 1876. Price, 7 mks. 50.

§ " Pabst Adrian VI., 1522-1523," von Constantin Ritter von Hofier.
Wien : Wiihelm Braumiiller, 18^0.

II " Der Spanische Cardinal Johann von Torquemada sein Lebon und
sein Schriften," gekroiite Preisschrift von Dr. Stephan Lederer, Katholis-
cher Pfarrer. Freiburg im Breisgau : Herder'sche Verlaghandlung, 1878.
3 mks. 40.

108 Recent Works on the State of Germany.

place, to reunite within the pale of the Church the Princes and
States threatened with schism from the lime of Lather's preaching.
The work of this promising young author is the chronological
complement of Dr. Janssen^'s history ; it does not, however, in the
least forestall the promised continuation in four volumes of the
former work. The title of Herr Pastor's work is, " Eflbrts for
Reunion.'"''^

Other Catholic authors have by their several writings com-
pleted the study of this particular period ; as, for instance, the
Abbe Gams in the third volume of his " History of the Church in
Spain ;-"t the first volume of which appeared in 1862, and the last
in 1879.

We will now take a hasty glance at the advance made in
historical research as represented by the works mentioned above.
We will first point out how each is the complement of the others.

Dr. Janssen's aim in his first volume is to exhibit the grand
qualities of the fifteenth century, and to prove that, in spite of
abuses and errors prevalent in various classes of society, art and
science flourished, the piety of the middle class was very intense,
preaching of the Word of God was frequent and general, schools
and education were prosperous. This is the bright side of the
period. In the second volume he proves that the religious and
social disturbance caused by the so-called " Reformation " put a
sudden stop to the advance of civilization.

The Abbe Dacheux^s aim is different. His hero, John Geiler,
was born at Schaff'hausen, in Switzerland, in 1445, and died at
Strassburg in 1510, after having officiated as preacher at the
Cathedral from 1478. He did not live to see the effects of the
Lutheran " Reforniation," but he devoted his whole life to the
real reform of abuses which had crept into church administration,
as well as into the liberties and privileges of the great secular
princes. John Geiler was a living protest against all the irregu-
larities of his time. In his works, preaching and life we have
presented to us the dark side of the latter half of the fifteenth
century.

In the same way Herr Pastor fills up the sketch contained in
Dr. Janssen's second volume (1523-1525), Dr. Janssen de-
scribes, with fearful truth, the consequences of the revolution
in the beginning of the sixteenth century, while Herr Pastor
unfolds a more consoling and refreshing canvas depicting the

* " Die Kirchlicheu Reunibnsbestrebungen, wahrend der Regierung
Karls Y. aus der quellen dargestellt." Freiburg im Breisgau : Herder'sche
Yerlagshandlung, 1879. Mks. 7.

t " Die Kirchengeschichte von Spanien." Dritter Band : 1® Abtheilung
(1055-1492) 187(5 ; 2^ Abtheilung (1492-1879) 1879. Regensburg : Joseph
Manz. 460 & 570 pp. ; each vol. 9s.

Recent Woi^ks on the State of Germany. 109

efforts made by the Emperor and the Sovereign Pontiffs to pacify
the Empire and the Clmrch, and to restore peace and prosperity
to States " on which the sun never set/' These efforts, never-
theless, were often quite barren. In the midst of this turmoil
and agitation, surrounded by the intrigues of the French Court,
by the fearful boldness and cynicism of Luther, the aspirations —
too often ambitious — of the Court at Madrid, rises up the grand
figure of Hadrian VI., as painted by Herr Hofler. Hadrian,
who was the victim of political complications engendered by the
Reformation, and who in a reign of two years was crushed under
the weight of cares imposed upon him by men who, detesting
heresy, would yet not forego their own cupidity and worldly
ambition ; was borne down by his labours for the restoration of
peace, which he sought with a disinterestedness very different
from that of the Emperor.

We will now give some details in explanation of these gene-
ralities, and taking Dr. Janssen's work as a centre we will group
around it the works of the other writers.

In the first book (pp. 1-132) our author describes the state of
learning in Germany at the period of the invention of printing,
and takes Cardinal Nicholas Krebs, a native of Cues on the
Moselle, near Treves, and known under the name of Cusanus, as
the typical representative of the time. This famous man was, as
a Church reformer, the counterpart of John Geiler; but as a man
of science he was his superior, for at one and the same time he
gave a fresh impetus to the study of theology and philosophy,
to physics and mathematics, being himself, meanwhile, engaged
with politics. His method, propagated in the name of the Holy
See, was a reform inaugurated by the reorganization and restora-
tion of existing institutions, and not by their destruction; by
warring against the passions by faith and science.

Nicholas took part in the Council of Basle, of disastrous renown,
in the reign of Eugenius IV (1431). He was then Dean of St.
Florian's at Coblentz, and was called to the Council by the
president, Julian Cesarini. On his side was John of Torquemada,
who distinguished himself by his eloquence in the defence of the
rights and prerogatives of the Papacy.^ These three men soon
abandoned all idea of effecting a reform in the Church by means
of this Council; but making one more effort to prevent the schism,
Cusanus and Torquemada went to Mayence, 1439, and later, in
1446, to the Diet at Frankfort, in order to make terms with the
Opposition. Thanks to these efforts, which were seconded by ^neas
Silvius Piccolomini (formerly a defender of the Council of Basle),
by Sarhano, Bishop of Bologna, and by Carvajal (who later on

* See Lederer, " Torquemada," pp. 25 seq., 123 seq. ^

110 Hecent Works on the State of Germany.

played an important part daring the Pontificate of Hadrian VI.)—
thanks to the united efforts of these men an agreement was con-
cluded, the result of which was that Sarhano in a short time
ascended the Papal throne, taking the name of Nicholas, and was
recognized by all parties as the legitimate Pope.

Nicholas Cusanus, renowned as a reformer and peacemaker,
was no less remarkable as a man of science. Living a hundred
years before Copernicus, he attributed the movement of rotation
and progression to the earth. He was among the greatest of
the older " humanists^^ in the real signification of the word, and
was a worthy disciple of the " Brethren of Common Life,'^ whom
we shall refer to later on. He died in the year 1466, and was
called by Trithemius '' the angel of light and peace." This is
the man chosen by Dr. Janssen as the type of this period.

Our author goes on to show that printing favoured the cause of
Cusanus, and of the true Reformation. The clergy utilized on
all sides the new invention to spread the Word of God and good
reading. Some printers received patents of nobility ; monastic
printing-presses rose as hy magic, and. in less than fifty years all
the large towns in Europe possessed printing machines. London
and Oxford had some by 1477, and as early as 1475 Rome
had twenty. In 1500 one hundred editions of the "Vulgate"
had been printed. Most convents possessed copies of the Bible
in the vulgar tongue, and by the time Luther appeared thousands
of them were scattered throughout Germany. The "Imitation
of Christ " was printed fifty-nine times before the beginning of
the sixteenth century.

Catalogues were now drawn up of all the different works in
type. The new printing-presses brought to light ancient national
poems, all kinds of popular tales, popular treatises on medicine,
rhymed versions of the Bible, &c. &c. Dr. Janssen observes
that the fruits of the new invention were evidently offered not
only to persons of fortune, but to the mass of the people. One
of the most famous centres of printing was the town of Nurem-
berg, which sent forth works to all parts of Europe. In 1500
it had a depot at Paris, and the eagerness to obtain copies of the
classical authors was such that the arrival of every fresh waggon-
load of books witnessed a hand-to-hand struggle for their pos-
session.

In the next chapter Dr. Janssen describes the state of the
elementary schools and of religious knowledge. This is no less
interesting or appropriate to the author-'s plan, which is to give
us a picture of the social and religious life of the people rather
than a narrative of their exploits in the battle-field or of their
seditious revolts ; these last are sufficiently referred to for their
influence and pernicious results to become apparent. We still

Recent Works on the State of Germany. Ill

possess some school-books belonging to this period, which give
us some idea of the state of education — reading- books, catechisms
in Low German, '' Mirrors of the Soul/' Other books, contain-
ing rules for good behaviour and the art of living, are no less
characteristic of the times. To those named by the author we
would add a book of Lambertus Goetman,^ entitled, '^ The Mirror
for Young Men'' f^Spyegel der Jonghers "), published in 1488
in Flemish ; then the '^ Mirror for Youth " (" Spyegel der
Joucheyt").t

A proof of the great esteem in which schoolmasters were held
is that, according to Dr. Janssen's computation, the salaries they
received were relatively higher than what are given in these
days. To impute to this period neglect of elementary education
is, therefore, a mistake. There was no lack of means whereby the
lower classes could obtain primary teaching, but ignorance pre-
vailed often amongst the higher classes, who devoted their lives,
many of them, to hunting and warfare.

The same may be said with respect to religious teaching, sermons,
the study of the Eible, &c. Up to the present time certain
writers have considered Luther as the '^revealer" of the Holy
Scriptures to a senseless world. A celebrated artist, the late
Herr Kaulbach, of Munich, has, in a picture on the landing of
the Museum staircase at Berlin, represented Luther standing on
a pedestal, surrounded by the eminent men of the Middle Ages.
He is holding the Bible on high in the attitude of a prophet
announcing a new era to the world, in the discovery of the Word
of Jesus Christ. We shall see more clearly later on what became
of this Divine Word.

Concerning the sermons of the fifteenth century, Dr. Janssen
and the Abbe Dacheux have met on the same ground. They
each give us a series of proofs showing the importance attached
to preaching by clergy and laity. The Al)be Dacheux names
some Alsatian writers whose discourses have come down to us —
Creutzer, Ulrich Surgant, Oiglin, Sattler, Wildegk, and many
others (p. 5, &c.). Not to be present at the Sunday sermon was
looked upon as a real sin. Priests who neglected to instruct
their flocks in the Holy Scriptures were threatened with excom-
munication (p. 30). The number of preachers at Nuremberg,
for example, was quite proverbial, and we may boldly conclude,
writes Hipler, the author of " Christliche Lehre" (^' Christian

* On this author maj* be consulted : Buddingh, " Geschiedenia
van het ondervvys en de opweding" ("History of Teaching and of
Education"), Gravenhage, 1843. Also Schotel, " Nederlandsche Volks
Boeker" (" Dutch Popular Books"). Haarlem : 1878, II., 219.

t See an extract from this work : P. Alberdingk Thijm, " Spiegel van
Nederlandsche Letteren" (*' Mirror of Flemish Literature"), II., p. 74, &c.

112 Recent Works on the State of Germany.

Teachinor "), that in Prussia preacliing was more frequent before
than after Luther's time. It may even be calculated that, at the
beginning of the sixteenth century, forty thousand copies of tlie
sermons of some preachers had been distributed. Catechetical
writings were not less numerous; and it is absurd to state that
false ideas, say of the doctrine of indulgences, were held by the
people because of their lack of instrnction (p. 41). Our author
here takes occasion to notice the remarkable work of J. Geffken,*
*' Der Bildercatechismus des 15 Jahrhunderts und die cateche-
tischen Hauptstiicke in dieser Zeit bis auf Luther," Leipzig, 1855
(Picture Catechisms, with explanatory chapters, from this time
till Luther). Lastly, we will mention, as works of instruction,
the so-called '^ Plenaria," or collections of Epistles and Gospels,
with explanations and reflections.

Professor Alzog published at Freiburg, in 1874, a biblio-
graphical pamphlet on this subject, and seine then every year
brings to light fresh discoveries of " Plenaria.'''-f' To these we
might add the Flemish and Dutch editions — e.g., one of Peter
Yan Os, Zwolle, 1488, a *' Plenarium of the Canons Regular of
Schoonhoven," 1505; another published by Vorsterman : Antwerp,
1591, &c.

Our author goes on to relate how education was greatly
influenced by the schools of the Confraternity of Gerard Groete
(Bruders van bet gemeine leven, Fratres vitae communis).
Brothers of Common Life, natives of the Netherlands, where they
had spread, especially in the north. They soon extended over
a great portion of Germany.^ Patronized by Eugenius IV.,
Pius II., Sixtus IV., many great humanists came forth from their
schools,§ and Nicholas Cusanus was, as we have already remarked,
one of their disciples.

The propagators of the study of the Humanities became, some
of them, the instigators of the Reformation. Dr. Janssen, how-
ever, would not wish them to be all ranked alike. He proves

* Wackernagel, " Kleinere Schriften," i. 345, may be consulted on the
custom in Italy of illustrating the sermon by pictures shown from the
pulpit. See also, R. Cruel, " Geschichte der deutschen Predigt im
Mittelalter" (" History of Preaching in Germany during the Middle
Ages"). Desmoid. 16s.

t See " Historisch-politische Blatter" of MM. Jorg & Binder of Munich
of the year 1875.

X Dachenx, p. 342.

§ Consult on this subject: 1st, Delprat, *' Yerhandeling over de Broeder-
schap van C Groete" (Treatise on the Confraternity of G. G.), Arnhem,
1846, or the German translation of Monike. 2nd, Gerard de Groote
a precursor (?) of the Reformation in the fourteenth century from
unpublished documents by G. Bonet. Maury : Paris, 1878. See likewise
Dacheux, p. 441.

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 113

with much acumen (and this is one of the characteristic features
of his work) that the first humanists were far from foreseeing
that their successors in the sixteenth century would ahuse the
study of pagan civiUzation to make war on Christian doctrines.
He makes, therefore, a distinction, and divides the History of the
Humanists from 1450 to 1550 into two periods. To the first
belong Cusanus (p. 13) and the celebrated Rudolph Agricola, a
native of Laflo, near Groningen, in Holland, one of the founders
of the study of the classics in Germany, but also a fervent
Catholic.

Dr. Janssen names a series of learned men in Westphalia
of the same stamp as Agricola, who obtained distinction by
founding or organizing schools, the strict discipline of which
would in these days seem little in harmony with the " Humani-
ties/' This picturesque sketch of the organization of the schools
of that period is most interesting at the present day when a special
study is made of school discipline and the use of the ferule.* In
connection with Agricola we must not omit to mention James
Wimpheling, of Schlettsbade, in Alsatia, that famous representa-
tive of sound learning, who received the title of " Teacher of
Germany" (Erzieher Deutschlands). He was educated in the
far-famed school of his native town in company with John Geiler
of Kaisersberg, John of Dalberg, and some seven or eight
hundred other scholars (p. 64 ; Dacheux, p. 443) .

The sixteen universities of Germany,t four of which had just
been founded, were no less well attended. Men of all ages and
of all ranks were to be found there. The young prince sat by
the side of the aged priest. The clergy were most numerously
represented. The professors at Vienna numbered almost as
many as they do now (p. 78). We will here note the name
of the Carthusian monk, Werner Kolewinck, who for virtue and
learning was a shining light at Cologne. He has left us a series
of theological works, as also a sketch of the " History of the
World,'' which ran through thirty editions in the space of
•eighteen years. This history was translated into French, and
printed in Spain. Though not formally attached to the univer-
sity at Cologne he used to give public lectures there, at which

* See, especially, the books mentioned by Dr. Janssen, p. 63,
'' SchuUeben" (School-life), and p. 293, " Beten und Arbeiten" (Prayer
and Work). To these I would add : Yan Berkel, " Ein Hollandsch dorp "
(A Dutch Yillage); in the Eeview, " Dietsche Warandi" revised by J. A.
Alberdingx Thijm, i. 312; and the article, "Ein Schoolmeester" (A
Schoolmaster), by the editor, in the same collection ii. 52, with illustra-
tions ; Schotel, " Vaderlandsche volksboeken" (Popular National
Books, i. 199, &c.).

t Europe counted forty-six universities at this period.
VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.] i

114 Recent Works on the State of Germany,

the professors themselves were wont to attend. Of still greater
fame was John Reuchlin as professor of Latin and Greek at
Basle and Heidelberg. At his side shone the illustrious John
of Dalberg (later on bishop) and a host of learned men skilled in
Eastern lore, especially in the study of Hebrew, amongst whom
we will only mention the celebrated John Trithemius^ Abbot of
Sponheim_, near Kreuznach (born 1462, at Tritheim, on the
Moselle), to whom flocked the youth and men of learning from
all the neighbouring States. Trithemius was in correspondence
with the most famous theologians, mathematicians, lawyers and
poets of his time. He was esteemed alike for his learning, great
virtue, and excellent social qualities. Together with John Geiler
and Cusanus he may be styled a precursor of the Reformation in
the same sense as all those may be designated who gave them-
selves up to the work of reorganizing certain ecclesiastical insti-
tutions or the rectifying of abuses. Trithemius was a zealous
reformer of Benedictine monasteries. With views as practical as
they were enlightened he recommended the method of study
of S. Thomas Aquinas as the most suitable for young students.
He has bequeathed us a general and scientific literary history
of the sacred authors — a work which stands alone and is of great
scholastic value. At the instigation of John Geiler he also
wrote a remarkable ^'^ History of Germany" (^'^ Epitome rerum
Ger m anicarum") . *

Our author sketches for us TJlrich Zasius, the celebrated lawyer,
Gregory Reisch, the mathematician, Heinlin of Stein, preacher at
the Cathedral of Basle, Regio Montanus, the astronomer, and
many others, representatives of an encyclopaedia of science. A few
of such names would be quite sufficient to prove the thesis of
Dr. Janssen, that the fifteenth century, in spite of its gloomy
side and of the moral degradation of the universitiesf was far
from being a period of scientific decay.

All these men were humanists of the right sort. The young
humanists of the beginning of the sixteenth century held quite
opposite views ; they made war on the Church and on the
Empire in the name of liberty, and of pure taste for the
literature of pagan antiquity. J But they had no inclination to
side with Luther. Proud of their acquired knowledge they
would not accept the decree that faith alone sufficed for salvation,
and that philosophy was the work of Satan — tenets promulgated
by Luther.

Our author now reviews the state of the Fine Arts. Paul
Giovio, the biographer of Hadrian YI.^ with many other Italians,
declared that Germany surpassed their own country in the matter

* Dacheux, p. 432. f Hofler, p. 17, seq. % See Pastor, p. 125.

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 115

of architecture (p. 139). Dr. Janssen gives us an account of
the painting, sculpture, gold and iron work, embroidery and
engraving, as also of the principal representatives of these divers
arts.

The name of Hans Memling, the celebrated painter, gives us
occasion to remark that, whereas Dr. Janssen supposes him to
have been born at Memline, a village near Aschaffenbourg in
Bavaria (p. 168), Mr. James Weale, an English archaeologist,
believes that he was born in the Dutch province of Gueldres,
and that his parents came from Medemblick in Holland.
Among the celebrated artists of this period the names of Albert
Durer and Holbein are, of course, not forgotten. Our author
does not fail to direct our attention to certain humorous
tendencies in the modelling art of the Middle Ages; he remarks
truly that " it is only in ages of lively faith, of deep interior
life, and of strong will-power that real humour is developed.^'

Referring to the different manners and customs of the people —
dances, games, costumes, head-gear — our author describes their
variety, picturesqueness, and charm. Further on, in the chapters
on industrial life, commerce, and finance (pp. 343-370), he
notices the excessive luxury that prevailed in dress, as well among
the working-classes as among the citizens, insomuch that various
sumptuary laws were passed at the Diets of the Empire — e.^.,
against the use of gold and costly stuiFs. Geiler of Kaisersberg
used to inveigh against this extreme luxury and lack of modesty
in dress ; he devotes a long chapter to this subject in his " Navis
Fatuorum.^'"^

Dr. Janssen compares the music of this period to the archi-
tecture of the same time. This is a true comparison as regards
the compositions of some of the musicians, whose complicated
productions recall the exaggerated style, overcharged with
ornamentation, of the fifteenth century — as, for example,
Ockenheim ; but the simplicity, freshness, and tenderness of the
popular songs of the fifteenth century resemble more nearly
the less affected architecture of the thirteenth century, or else
the Roman style with its grandly simple lines. Gothic archi-
tecture was in its decline in the fifteenth century, whilst music
as an art was being further developed and perfected.

Our author does not forget to notice such general literature of
this time as popular prose works and chronicles, books of travels,.
&c. He commends specially the sacred and profane dramas, and;
describes the play called " Antichrist.^' This piece, which has-
been studied with much interest in these days, represents all the
vicissitudes and dangers of a monarches position, and the quick

* See Dacheux, p. 213.

I 2

116 Recent Works on the State of Germany.

growth of evil passions in one destined to reign. The wicked
spirit is there represented under the name of Antichrist, and
chooses for his victim the Emperor of Germany. The end of the
play shows us the last- mentioned personage struck with
lightning at the very moment he is intending to display all his
magnificence.

Dr. Janssen calls attention to the humorous features of the
theatrical representations. All the droll parts were given to the
devil, and therefore it often happened that the principal role in
the piece fell to his share ; whole acts were played throughout by
him and his companions. In France this was called " diablerie "
(devilry).

To the authors named by Dr. Janssen who have studied this
subject, we might add the late Abbe Lindemann, Rector of'
Niederkruchten, on the Dutch frontier (author of an extract in
German, from the Abbe Dacheux's monograph on John Geiler),
who in his " History of German Literature " gives a clear and
rather complete sketch of dramatic art in the Middle Ages.*

Dr. Janssen concludes this chapter by a glance at the charac-
teristic work of Sebastian Brandt, called "Narren Schiff" (The
Ship of Fools), a humorous satire, in which the author lashes
every abuse of the age, and persons of every rank who counte-
nanced them. He was John Geiler^s favourite author; they
were contemporaries, and worked for the same end by different
means — Geiler preached and Brandt wrote. The Abbe Dacheux
has done well to give a long extract from this work at the end
of his monograph. We see therein how two reformers expose
and scourge the same social vices ; the contempt for holy things,
for religious customs, for Indulgences; the habit of frivolous
swearing, pluralism in church benefices, every kind of profanity,
deceit, adultery, &c., &c.t

Lastly, in the third and fourth books of the first volume. Dr.
Janssen sketches the economic, judicial and political state of
Germany at the end of the Middle Ages : 1st, agriculture,
industry, commerce, and finance ; 2nd, the position of Germany

* We would call the attention of our English readers to the " Geschichte
des Drama" of B. Klein, an extensive work, in the twelfth and thirteenth
vols, of which is given the history of the English Theatre. These might
with advantage be worked up in an English form rather than translated.
The above work, still unfinished, does not at present comprise the history
of German Drama.

+ Sebastian Brandt also wrote a " Lives of the Saints," only four
copies of which are known to be extant. One of these is in the
private library of the Abbe F. X. Krauss, professor of Church History
at the University of Freiburg im Brisgau. It is a quarto volume. These
words are written on the last page : " Zu eren der wirdige Muter Gotes
Beschlus discs Wercks Sebastian Brandt."

Becent Works on the State of Germany. 117

in its relations with other countries^ its constitution, and laws,
German and Roman.

The riof-hts of the territorial lords as reo^ards their tenants were
very complicated at the end of the Middle Ages ; but speaking
generally the privileges of the holders of fiefs and of land
had not been lessened, and the possession of the greater portion
of the land lay with the vassals instead of with their lords, who
seemed only to have a claim on service and contributions. These
holdings had assumed the character of independent possessions.
It is generally asserted that the War of the Peasants, which
we shall speak of later on, was caused by the intolerable oppression
of the tillers of the soil. We do not wish to deny that there were
exceptional instances of this kind, but it has been proved that the
general features of the agricultural class in the fifteenth century
vere quite patriarchal in character, and gave no pretext for revolt.
It was the religious revolution, and the discontent excited by the
preachers of (so-called) liberty, that made the greater portion of
the people rise in rebellion.

The author reviews agricultural life and occupations, the
relative value of country produce, and of the commerce and in-
dustries of the town. He compares commercial articles with pro-
visions. A pound of saffron, for example, was worth as much as
a cart-horse ; a fat ox was cheaper than a velvet cloak of the most
ordinary quality; a pound of sugar cost more than twice as
much as a sucking-pig.

Then follows an account of the cultivation of gardens and wine,
the home lives of the peasants, and their wages. An ordinary
working man could earn in a week the value of a sheep and a
pair of shoes ; and in twenty-four days he could earn a large
measure of rye, twenty-five stock-fish, a load of wood, and three
ells of cloth. Was he to be pitied ?

Then comes a sketch of industrial pursuits, of the state of the
clubs and guilds of the artisans, their customs and rights, their
assemblies — e.g., the "Tailors^ Congress'''' at Oppenheim, in
Frankfort-on-Maine — the produce of their handicrafts, their
chef-cVoeuvres] the commerce and history of the Hanse,* the
centre of European commerce — which had reached its apogee in
the fifteenth century. A thousand curious and interesting
details but little known are here noted down — for instance, the
adulteration of food and workmen's strikes. In a word, a picture
of the people as perfect and finished as one of those of the

_ * Here the author would have us remark the etymology of the expres-
sion pound sterHng, which means simply, pound easterling. In England
the merchants of the Hanse were called " easterlings" (orientals). The
current coin in England svas for a long tinie Hanseatic money.

11(S Recent Works on the State of Germany,

old masters, mentioned in the first part of the volume, is here
put before us.

Our author does not forget to disclose the dark side of the
period ; the increase of riches and of life-comforts, financial
speculations and usury ; the taking advantage of small traders by
wealthy merchants, and the discredit brought on commerce
thereby; the profligacy, apparent in dress, against which
Diets legislated, and preachers protested in vain. Amongst the
latter was Geiler of Kaisersberg, who followed in the lead of
Sebastian Brandt, as related by Abbe Dacheux in his mono-
graph (p. 213).

Lastly, in the fourth book our author discusses the influence
exercised by the Roman law on the ancient customs and habits
of the German people. He works out the opinion that the
introduction of Roman law proved an obstacle to the justice
sought by the towns or guilds, and that it gave them into the
hands of the territorial princes.*

The principle of German as of canon law was that every
proprietor should use his property according to justice and
morality. This principle was opposed to usury and to the
artificial raising of the prices of provisions. According to
Boman law each individual has the liberty and right to consult
his own interest regardless of the need of others. This funda-
mental idea is in direct opposition to the moral principle of
Germanic law. Wimpheling calls the Roman law a series of
lying and sophistic artifices ; and Trithemius designates it as a
new slavery (p. 495).

The introduction of Roman law singularly encouraged the
desire of gain, and lawyers were soon denounced as the worst
interpreters of law and justice. A most characteristic sign of
the aversion entertained by the people for the learned men of
law. is the fact that in several agreements and compromises
belonging to the second half of the fifteenth century, we find the
several parties consenting that in case of any differences arising
between them, or of any errors being discovered in the agree-
ment, they would employ neither a doctor, licentiate, nor master
in law to decide the question ; " for these,^' said they, '' seek for
and create defects where none exist.""

All the burghers thought alike ; contemporary writers tell us
that the lawyers were considered a greater evil than the " Free
Lances," these last only taking possession of material property,
and not interfering with men's souls.

It was only princes who, for reasons of absolutism, favoured
the introduction of the Roman law, yet were they warned that

* Compare the opinion of Wimpheling. Janssen, i. p. 489.

Recent Worhs on the State of Germany. 119

this legal chaos would some day lead to revolution. ('^ Chaos sanc-
tionum humanarum ; perplexitas vetemm et novorum jurium.'''')^

After a short political sketch of the German monarchy of the
Middle Ages^ of the importance of imperial free towns (Reich-
stadte), &c., our author reverts to the reforms proposed by
Nicholas Cusanus mentioned above. He relates the efforts of
Nicholas to divide the Empire into twelve circles, each to have
its imperial tribunal, composed of an. ecclesiastic, a nobleman,
and a burgher. Cusanus recommended the creation of a standing
army, in order to strengthen the imperial power, and to be a
safeguard against foreign princes ; but his efforts were in vain,
and the imperial authority declined, to the great detriment of
the realm, whilst the power of the feudal princes increased
(p. 466). This proved one of the great evils of the succeeding
century. t The representatives of towns lost their influence, and
the towns became dependent on the territorial lords. This was
the case in the Mark of Brandenburg.

By the introduction of Roman law even legal science lost its
importance. The new study introduced into the universities
-a petty, wrangling spirit, which was condemned by the most
learned men of ihe time — a Reuchlin^ Wimpheling, and others
(p. 477). A storm of satire fell upon the new organization, but
in vain ; the ambition of emperor and prince forbade any con-
tinuous opposition. Absolutism in Germany was too well favoured
by the new law.

Francis I., King of France, wished meanwhile to become an
absolute sovereign in his realm, and to add imperialism to royalty.
He assumed the imperial insignia before setting out for Italy and
the conquest of Naples. This was the signal for the endless war-
fare that filled all the reign of Charles V., and was the great cause
of the unceasing anxiety of Hadrian VI., J a Pope as holy as he was
learned, who had ascended the Pontifical throne without the aid
of nepotism, or of imperial favour.

Maximilian strove in vain to introduce measures of reform at
the different Diets. " The representatives of th^ Empire," says
Trithemius, '^ are quite accustomed now to yield up nothing to
the Empire, and to ignore entirely their promises. Therefore,
Maximilian no longer holds the power to defend justice, or to
punish those who betray the peace of the State. We are con-
tinually in a state of civil war'' (p. 860).

Maximilian was powerless to prevent the ancient glory of the
Empire from being humbled j his efforts to reorganize the tri-
bunals were badly supported; the princes did their utmost to pro-

* Wimpheling, " Apologia," bk. 49. Jansseu, i. p. 495.
t Hofler, p. 247, seq. I Hofler, " Adrian VI." p. 92.

120 Recent Works on the State of Germany.

mote disturbances; the States constantly opposed his projects of
reform, and refused their assistance in his war with the Repubhc
of Venice, and for a proposed expedition against the Turks.
Luther, protected out of policy by Frederic, the Elector of
Saxony, was just peering above the horizon. Germany had to
fight on all sides against the civil foes who were undermining
her prosperity. Lastly, it is well known that after the death of
Maximilian, when a new emperor had to be chosen, Joachim,
Elector of Brandenburg, " the father of all cupidity ,^^ headed the
party that wished to hand over the Empire to the King of France.

In spite of treachery, of the profligacy engendered by luxury,
of the abuses among the clergy, and of the vices of the young
humanists, which sapped the foundations of German prosperity,
charitable institutions were ever increasing, religious life among
the people did not lose in intensity, and by the efforts of Nicholas
Cusanus provincial synods were held in many dioceses. Yet it is
through the canons of these very synods that we learn the state
of the Church in general, and the almost universal depravity.
The learned Wimpheliug, an impartial spectator of events, ex-
claims : " I take God to witness that I know, in the Khenish
dioceses, an infinite number of ecclesiastics of solid learning, and
of irreproachable life — prelates, canons, vicars — all pious, generous,
and humble/^ Eut, unfortunately, these exceptions only confirm
the rule, or, if not the rule, the examples contrary to those
Wimpheling refers to.

It was against this worldly spirit, which had penetrated into
the higher classes, and, through them, had filtered through to the
clergy, high and low, that John Geiler raised his voice. The
laity ,^ by privileges which they well knew how to obtain, had
gained an unheard-of influence in the nomination of rectors and
vicars, whose moral dignity sufi^ered not a little under the secular
yoke. It is, then, the dark side of society, the very opposite
view to Dr. Janssen^s, which the life of Geiler unfolds before us.
We will now see how the Abbe Dacheux treats the situation in
the life and writings of his hero.

We have already noticed how the Abbe Dacheux and Dr.
Janssen have met on the same ground in discussing certain facts
in the history of the fifteenth century; for instance, the preaching,
the style of sermon, the manner of teaching. With details of
this kind the Abbe Dacheux opens his work on John Geiler, and
his special aim is to make known the excellence of the preachers
of Alsace, the field in which his reformer laboured most.

* See Lederer, "Johann v. Torquemada," Freiburg: Herder, 1879,
pp. 40, 52 ; and Dacheux, " John Geiler," pp. 100, 156, 205, 209.

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 121

John Geller was born at Scliaffhausen, in Switzerland, in
1445 ; his father settled in Alsace, where he had obtained the
post of registrar to the Council of Ammerswihr. After having
sketched for us his first years of study, our author shows us how
Geiler became famous by his preaching. He was chosen to fill
the post of preacher at the University of Freiburg, but shortly
afterwards the towns of Basle, Warzburg and Strassburg, dis-
puted the honour of electing to their Cathedral pulpit a preacher
of such eloquence, such immovable steadfastness, and such irre-
proachable life. Indeed, the office of preacher at Strassburg
Cathedra] was created for Geiler by Bishop Robert, of Bavaria,
but the opposition of certain competitors succeeded in hindering
the strictly official employment and adequate remuneration of
Geiler till 1489.-^ Although he acknowledged all that Robert of
Bavaria had done for him, Geiler would not allow his personal
gratitude to obscure his judgment, or to interfere with the great
aim he had proposed to himself. Almost his first remarkable
sermon was the discourse at the funeral of Bishop Robert. With
intent to depict the morals of the age, and to offer sage counsels
to Robertas successor, he drew in striking words the principal
faults of the deceased. In the form of a dialogue with the soul
of the bishop he reproaches him with luxurious living, with
haughtiness, with vanity, praising meanwhile his administration.
He then draws the picture of a worthy bishop holding it up as
an example to Albert of Bavaria, Robertas successor. This style
of reproach and manner of counsel might be compared to that
employed by the Cardinal Bishop of Ostia, Bernardino Carvajal,
in a discourse addressed to the Sovereign Pontiff, Hadrian VI., at
his presentation to the Sacred College at Rome, August 29, 1522.
The bishop, desirous of reading a serious lesson to some of his
colleagues — to the body of cardinals of the time of Leo X., and
to the adherents of the schism under Julius II., rehearsed to the
new Pontiff all the woes of the Church and the causes which
produced them ; the simony of the Popes ; their want of
intellect, knowledge and good will; their being elected to the
Papal throne by men indolent and vicious. " Happily,^' said the
bishop, " those times are now past and gone.^^ Nevertheless he
thought it expedient to propose to the newly-elected Pontiff
several articles which as Pope he should observe : to protect
liberty of voting ; to introduce reforms according to the prescrip-
tions of the holy canons : to embrace poverty, &c. Sccf*

To come back to Geiler. His discourse was the first of a series
preached against the abuses of the age.

The new bishop found in him a zealous auxiliary for the exe-

* Chap. xvii. p. 405. f Hofler, " Pabst Adrian YI." p. 192.

122 Recent Worhs on the State of Germany.

cution of his projects of reform, and when he convoked a synod
•of the clergy in liis diocese, Geiler was invited to pronounce the
opening discourse. In it Geiler reproves the clergy for their
rapacious and eager grasping at temporal goods ; he compares
them to leeches and to wild beasts. He speaks with no less con-
tempt of the treasures of the rich, and especially of the use to]
which they put them ; for instance, buying Church preferments
for their sons. Truly the princes "■ lorded it over the prelates
within their lands,^^ as John of Torquemada said in a discourse
preached before the Council of Basle against the decree which had
for its aim to abolish Papal rights over ecclesiastical nominations
(^' decretum irritans")* Geiler reproaches the clergy with the abuse
of canonical penances, with laxity in giving dispensations, with
every description of iniquity committed in the towns, with the
disorders allowed in the cathedrals, which were turned into public
places where the people laughed and chattered and gave comio
representations.

It cannot be denied that Geiler in some matters was too great
a rigoristj and hence it often happened that those he reproved
did not hear him very patiently.

One day in the year 1500 he inveighed in his sermon against
the magistrate for not repressing with more energy the disorders
and profanations committed by the burghers. The magistrate,
meaning to call the preacher to order, sent him two delegates to
demand an account of his bold words. Geiler answered by a
pamphlet containing, in twenty-one articles, a scheme of adminis-
tration afterwards famous, and disinterred by the author of this
work.

In these articles Geiler reproaches the magistrate with the
spoliation of the clergy and the poor in his opposition to certain
bequests ; with countenancing gambling, and allowing it to go
-on in the houses of the town councillors, who dedicated the revenue
derived therefrom to the giving of banquets. Another article
treats of the too great licence allowed in the frequenting of
ale-houses, and of the non-observance of feast days. Geiler
then complains that the gifts made to the Cathedral are taken
for municipal requirements, and that the administration evinces
the greatest parsimony in regard to the hospital, where the poor
and other inmates are neglected and badly fed, though the insti-
tution is richer than the whole Cathedral Chapter. He com-
plains of the excessive contributions exacted from the clergy,
the encouragement given to murder by the non-punishment of

* See Lederer, " Johann v. Torquemada," p. 52. Compare Dacheux,
pp. 100 and 156 : " If there are bad priests it is because you (the princes)
wish for sach." Compare also pp. 205 and 209 on the " Chevaliers
-Fanfarons."

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 1 23

homicide, &c. &c. Lastly, he protests against the use of torture,
as contrary to the laws of the Church.

From the beginning Geiler had the happiness of seeing that
his preaching bore salutary fruit. The courage and boldness
with which he poured forth his reproaches made the guilty
tremble. The burghers were forbidden to hold profane assemblies
in the Cathedral, the magistrates to hold court there, and the
children to play at church services. A custom which prevailed
on certain festivals — swearing by the members of God'^s body*
was forbidden, and men were prohibited from entering the
convents of women, &c. (p. 71). It cannot be denied that,
influenced by him, religious life in convents received a new
impulse (p. 196). It was through his intercession with the
bishop and the Pope''s Nuncio that condemned criminals who
were really penitent were allowed to receive the Holy Eucharist,
which hitherto had been denied them, and was again after the
siege of Strassburg by Louis XIV. On the protest of Geiler
priests were more generally admitted into the hospitals, the doors
of which had hitherto been often closed upon them (p. 56).

May we not attribute the measures taken by Albert of Bavaria
for the reformation of certain abuses, partly to the funeral dis-
course pronounced over his predecessor Robert? Is it not also
evident that Geiler was invited to preach at the opening of the
diocesan synod, on the understanding that he was to show up
these same abuses among the clergy? This liberty of speech, of
which he made full use, is a proof that the minds of men were
drawn towards him ; and this power of attraction was in itself a
success. After the death of Albert of Bavaria Geiler pronounced
an exhortation before the Chapter previous to the election of a
successor ; in this instance, we know not which to admire most,
the courage of the preacher or the good-will of his audience,
amongst which sat five bishops, the Marquess of Baden, the
Prince of Bavaria, and many other territorial lords, relatives of
the late bishop. These all listened to the preacher as to a
prophet preaching penance, for Geiler, passing over in silence the
virtues of the deceased prelate, inveighed against the sins and pre-
varications of church-dignitaries and secular princes. By the
unanimous voice of the Chapter, of which the five bishops formed
a part, the man whom Geiler had pointed out as the most worthy
successor of Albert was elected. This was William, Count of
Honstein, one of the youngest canons of the Cathedral (page 480).
William had the courage and modesty to listen to the exhorta-

* This custom had spread even to the JSTetherlands. In the Mystery
Plays the demons swore after that fashion, by the members of the Body
of Jesus Christ. See, for example, the Miracle Play, called " Ls Sacre-
ment de Nieuwervaert," p. 84, published at Leunarden (Suringar).

124 Recent Works on the State of Germany,

tions of Geiler, pronounced in a funeral discourse five days later,^
and addressed to every bishop given up to indolence, avarice, anr
luxury ; the preacher concluded by entreating the newly-elected^
not to walk in the footsteps of such, but to meditate on the Holy
Scriptures, to destroy in his heart all attachment to the world,j
and never to divert the riches of the Church from their righl
destination.

The Emperor Maximilian held Geiler in great esteem. H<
consulted him on matters of the highest importance, and askec
him to draw up a kind of rule of conduct to guide him in the
government of his subjects. Such was his respect for the eminent
preacher that he would never allow him to remain uncovered in
his presence.

Lastly, Geiler-'s contemporaries agreed that the conduct of the
clergy showed signs of amendment. Wimpheling, though severe
in his judgment on the clergy, could discern a daily increase in
the num])er of virtuous and learned ecclesiastics (pp. 136, 140,
n. 167).

This improvement did not, it must be admitted, grow or
deepen; neither did it spread throughout Germany. As soon as
Luther appeared on the scene, the old passions of cupidity, in-
dolence, indiH'erence, added to unbelief, seemed to revive. Dr.
Janssen attributes all this perverse influence to the so-called
" Eeformation," but unfortunately the germs of it existed long
before. The learned and saintly Nausea, Bishop of Vienna, wrote,
in 1527 : " Who is to blame for all these abuses that have crept
into the Church ? It is we who are to blame — and all of us." lie
points to the clergy as the origin of grave errors. "That is why,^'said
he, "the clergy should first be reformed."* Geiler, therefore, had
not yet converted the world — no one imagined he had — and though
his labours bore great fruit, his ardent zeal remained unsatisfied.
He wished to see the diocese of Strassburg, at least, turn there
and then from worldly ways, indecent dress, luxurious feasting ;
he insisted that the rich, eitlier through avarice or the prodi-
gality which impoverished them, should no longer seek Church
emoluments in the shape of canonries for their sons ; that the
accumulation of Church benefices should cease ; that dispensations
of all kinds should be granted with more circumspection, &c. &c.

We have remarked that John Geiler went to extremes some-
times, but we must here note that his exaggeration lay rather in
the form and in the expressions he used, than in his ideas them-
selves. Allowance should be made for his expressions, often
strong and coarse, by taking into account the age in which they
were used — the fifteenth, and the beginning of the sixteenth

* *' De Reformanda Ecclesia," quoted by Herr Pastor, p. 287.

Recent Works on the State of Germany. 125

centuries, when a popular style of speech was used in the pulpit,
as elsewhere^ much more than it is now. The coarseness of Geiler's
expressions cannot be compared with that found in the discussions
between Luther"^ and his adversaries, and this fault of style con-
tinued till a much later period. We find, for instance, Charles IX.
of Sweden, writing to Christian IV. of Denmark, to decline a
duel, in language coarser than the coarsest used now. The last
phrase of this letter runs : " This is our answer to thy coarse
letter" C^^auf deinen groben Brief ^^f). Yet modern times were
close at hand !

Geiler's rigorism is apparent in his opposition to the dispensa-
tion given for the use of butter and eggs. He knew this custom
already existed in the fourteenth century in the diocese of Cologne
and Treves, but he opposed it because he saw it fostered the
cupidity of the clergy (the '^ turpis lucri cupiditas " of Albert of
Bavaria, p. 483) .J The avarice of the bishops had unfortunately
become proverbial. The saying : " Es ist aber um gelt zu thun ""
(it is a question of money) referred to every fine inflicted for
disorders of all kinds, concubinage, &c., &c. Geiler considered
this cupidity as one of the principal causes of decay in the Church.
" It is the mother of dissolution," said he ; '' it leads to the accu-
mulating of benefices, and to all those intrigues for misleading
the Pope, from whom these exemptions and ecclesiastical fines
proceed. By the sale of benefices the most learned and worthy
priests, who had spent twenty years in teaching theology, were
thrust aside to make way for candidates whose nomination was
more lucrative. §

Geiler, however, was sometimes too severe in his strictures
on this and other points. For instance, when he reproaches the
Papacy with always demanding supplies to fit out expeditions
against the Turks. Even the Abbe Dacheux acknowledges
this (p. 249), and goes on to state some facts which prove
how much the Popes did, from Calixtus III. (1455) to
Alexander VI., who died in 1503, to promote the war against
the Osmanli.^'ll In 1481 it was feared in Rome that the city itself
would before long be taken by the Turks.^ Janssen and Hofler both
insist upon the exertions made by the Popes against the Infidels.

* See and compare Hofler, p. 261 ; and Luther's " Commentary on the
Epistle to the Galatians," p. 377.

t See Gfrover, " Gustav Adolph," b. i. ch. i. p. 39, n., quoted by
Holberg, " Danische Reichshistorie," ii. 661.

X In his work, " Peregrineti," Geiler speaks with more moderation
about fasting. Dacheux, pp. 255, 290.

§ Compare Wimpheling, quoted p. 122, n. 2.

II Compare Lederer, p. 268.

\ Dacheux, p. 294, n.

126 Recent Worhs on the State of Germany.

The former cites (i. 555, n.) a work written by Hegewisch, a
Protestant, and professor at the University of Kiel, towards the
end of the eighteenth century, who, in his '' History of the
Emperor Maximilian,^^ brought to light the efforts made by the
Popes to organize a war against the Turks who threatened the
German Empire. These efforts of the Koman Pontiffs were, as
a rule, rendered futile by the indifference of the princes ; for
instance, those made by Pius II., aided by Cardinal Torquemada."^
Herr Hofler in his turn gives undeniable proofs of the labours
and anxieties of Hadrian YI. (p. 485) caused by the - advance
of the Turkish army, which advance Francis I. contemplated
with satisfaction.

To return to our '^Reformer."" Geiler attributed the pro-
hibition against nuns reserving some small portion of their
fortune on entering a convent to the cupidity of certain autho-
rities. The introduction of Roman law, which helped consider-
ably to change tlie face of Germany, he considered, and with
greater truth, to be a stimulus to cupidity. Many young men
threw up their theological studies thinking to find in the law a
more direct road to fortune, or else they took service at Rome,
then looked upon as the California of the idle (p. 116).

We should exceed the limits of this Article were we to try to
indicate all the interesting points of the Abbe Dacheux''s work.
It has already been reviewed by the critics of Germany, Prance,
and other countries, who have noticed the striking features of a
work which is a study of the innermost life and personal history
of Geiler, rather than an account of the general movement of the
period. In such a manner should we have liked to enter into
Geiler^s relations with his friends, especially with the Schott
family — a real picture, given in the thirteenth to sixteenth
chapters.

Fault has been found with the author for giving too many
details of general history which had but small connection with
Geiler himself. We are not of this opinion, for the Abbe Dacheux,
in connecting the events of Geiler's life with the history of his
age, only makes his sketch more attractive, and, indeed, more
useful to our purpose, which is to give here an account, not of the
advance made in the biographical details of this period, but of
the progress made in discoveries relating to history taken as a
whole, and of the coalescing causes productive of certain events.
As is truly remarked by Dr. Janssen, the sermons of John Geiler
are a real mine of knowledge, wherein to learn the popular life- .
of that period (I. 263). One chapter might have been omitted
by the author without breaking the harmony of his work ; we

* Lederer.

The Revision of the Neiv Testament. 127

refer to chapter XIV.^ the " History of the Convent of Klingen-
thal," which seems rather superfluous.

We will conclude this review bv cono^ratulatino^ the Abbe
Dacheux on the subject he has chosen, on the conscientious-
ness and perspicacity with which he has treated it, and on
his style. We would also commend the typographical excellence
of the work and its price. We would wish to see it translated
into English. Historical truth would thereby be the gainer.
John Geiler died in 1510, at the moment Luther was beginning
to preach a reform very different to the one Geiler had longed
for. We shall next pass on to the events which took place at the
beginning of the sixteenth century.

P. Alberdingx Thijm.

akt. v.— the eeyision of the new testament.

1. The New Testament, translated out of the Greek : being

the Version set forth, a.d. 1611, compared with the most
Ancient Authorities and Revised^ a.d. 1881. Oxford
University Press. 1881.

2. H KAINH AIAeHKH. The Greek Testament, with the

Readings adopted by the Revisers of the Authorized
Version. Clarendon Press, Oxford. 1881.

3. Considerations on the Revision of the English Version of

the New Testament. By C. J. Ellicott, Bishop of
Gloucester and Bristol. London: Longmans. 1870.

^. On a Fresh Revision of the English New Testament. By
J. B. LiGHTFOOT, D.D. London : Macmillan. 1872.

5. Biblical Revision : its Necessity and Purpose. By

Members op the American Revision Committee. London:
Sunday School Union.

6. Corapanion to the Revised Version of the English New

Testament. By Alexander Egberts, D.D. London :
Cassell, Petter & Co.

7. Vainorum Teacher's Bible. London : Queen^s Printers.

1880.

THE English Bible has been likened to one of our old
Cathedrals, not only in the beauty and majesty of its
outlines, but also in the fact that it was originally Catholic. As
in a much restored Cathedral, it is not easy to say what is old
and what is new, how much belonged to Catholic times or how

128 The Revision of the New Testament.

much has been altered since; so it is with the oft-revised
English Bible. Professor Blunt, in his " Plain Account/' says
that the foundation was certainly Catholic, being based on some
version older than that of Wycliffe. Here, of course, he is at
variance with most modern Protestant critics, who do not care to
look back further than Tyndale. But he has Sir Thomas More to
support him, and also the express statements of Cranmer and
Fox, " who lived three hundred years nearer to the time they
wrote of, were acute men, and recorded facts within their own
knowledge." Had the Reformers spared the University and
Monastic Libraries, we should have more evidence on the point.
Again, it may be held that King James's Version is only the
" Great Bible" twice revised ; and that was Catholic, at least in
its fourth edition, that of 1541, which was ''oversene and
perused at the commandment of the kinges hyghnes, by the
right reverende father in God Cuthbert (Tunstall) bysshop of
Duresme and Nicholas (Heath) bysshop of Rochester." The
Great Bible was published when England was still Catholic;
it was approved by Catholic bishops, who assured the King
that it supported no heresy, and it found a home in the Catholic
Churches of England when Mass was still oifered at their altars.
This Bible was revised by the Elizabethan bishops in 1568,
and, in 1611, after a more lengthened revision, it appeared
again in the world as King James's " Authorized Version,"
and was passed off as a New Translation. Nor did people
suspect how much even this last revision was due to Catholic
influences. There is little doubt that the complaints of Catholics
about corrupt translations, expressed by Dr. Gregory Martin
in his '' Discoverie of Manifold Corruptions," combined with
the King's hatred of the Genevan Bible and its notes suggestive
of tyrannicide to bring about the revision. And in that
revision King James's revisers were more largely influenced
by the Rheims translation than they cared to own. Dr.
Moulton, in his " History of the English Bible," says, " that the
Rhemish Testament has left its mark on every page of the
work" (p. 207). The Preface to the New Revision of 1881
acknowledges that King James's Bible " shows evident traces of
the influences of a Version not specified in the Rules, the
Rhemish, made from the Latin Vulgate, but by scholars con-
versant with the Greek Original."

Catholics may therefore be said to have a deep vested interest
in what concerns the English Bible. It is true that Father
Faber called it one of the great strongholds of heresy in this
country. Still the same might be said of the old cathedrals and
parish churches. Besides, whatever affects the religious life of
the nation must have an interest for Catholics^ a mournful

The Revision of the New Testament. 1&9

interest tliough it may be. Cardinal Newman, in his ^''Grammar

of Assent," says :

Bible lieliglon is both the recognized title and the best description
of English religion. It consists, not in rites or creeds, but mainly in
having the Bible road in the Church, in the family, and in private.
Now, I am far indeed from undervaluing that mere knowledge of
Scripture which is imparted to the population thus promiscuously. At
least, in England, it has to a certain point made up for great and grievous
losses in its Christianity. The reiteration again and again, in fixed
course in the public service, of the words of inspired teachers under
both Covenants, and that in grave majestic English, has in matter of
fact been to our people a vast benefit. It has attuned their minds to
religious thoughts ; it has given them a high moral standard ; it has
served them in associating religion with compositions, which, even
humanly considered, are among the most sublime and beautiful
ever written ; especially it has impressed upon them the series of
Divine Providences in behalf of man from his creation to his end,
and, above all, the words, deeds, and sacred sufferings of Him, in
whom all the Providences of God centre (p. 56).

Therefore any genuine effort, honestly made, to purify the
text-book of English religion from errors, and to make it more
comformable to the Divine originals, must enlist the sympathy of
Catholics. If Church restoration serves the cause of Catholic
truth, may we not expect the same of Bible revision ? History
proves that the Catholic Church in England was injured in the
estimation of the people, mainly by corrupt translations. The
so-called Reformation was an heretical appeal from the Church
to the Bible, but to the Bible as translated by heretics, and in
their translation there was no Church to be found, but only
'' congregation," no bishops and priests, but only " overseers"
and '* elders." Popular Bible religion was first schooled in the
Calvinistic Genevan Bible of 1560, with its anti- Catholic notes.
What wonder if, as it grew up, it spoke the language of
Puritanism, and called the Pope anti-Christ and the Catholic
Church the Beast. As Elizabeth could tune her pulpits, so could
heretics phrase their Bibles. They stole the Scriptures from the
Church, and then the Church from the Scriptures. Had the
Bible been honestly translated and fairly interpreted, little harm
would have come of the appeal. The Scriptures would have
borne testimony of the Church, as they do of her Divine
Founder. As the works of God cannot contradict the words
of God, so the Inspired Word cannot be at variance with
the Living Voice of the Holy Sprit, in the Church of Christ.

In the long struggle for existence between the various transla-
tions. King Jaraes''s Bible prevailed according to the law of
natural selection ; it was the survival of the fittest. But it was

VOL. Yi. — NO. I. [Third Series.] K

130 The Revision of the New Testament.

not till Queen Anne's reign that it obtained so firm a place in the
affection of the nation. Had the Long Parliament been a little
longer^ Anglican bishops at least would have been saved the
trouble of further revision. Still it could hardly be denied that
the Authorized Version was very imperfect. The greatest Hebrew
scholar of his day said "he would rather be torn to pieces than
impose such a version on the poor churches of England.^' Bishop
Lowth showed how defective was the Old Testament, from the
fact that it rested entirely on the Masoretic text. The infallibility
of the vowel points invented by the Masora in the sixth century
was then a cardinal point in the creed of those who rejected the
Church's authority. And in the New Testament it is well known
that the translators had before them only the imperfect text of
Stephens and Beza. How empty, then, was the boast of
Protestants that their Bible was better than the Catholic because
it was a translation from the original Hebrew and Greek, whilst
the Catholic version was simply from the Latin Vulgate 1 A^i h
their imperfect text they could hardly be said to have had the
originals at all, and it is pretty certain that the Vulgate as a
whole is the closest approximation to the original attainable eitlier
then or now. In point of fidelity, the esssential matter in
Scripture translation, the Douai Bible is as superior to King
James's as it is inferior in its English. For, as Dr. Dodd says,
" its translators thought it better to offend against the rules of
grammar than to risk the sense of God''s Word for the sake of a
fine period/' Dr. Moulton acknowledges that " the translation
is literal and (as a rule, if not always) scrupulously faithful and
exact Only minute study can do justice to its faithful-
ness, and to the care with which the translators executed their
work/'"^ Another defect in the Authorized Version is the want
of grammatical precision. It mistakes tenses, ignores synonymes,
and has no appreciation for article or particle. Here, again, the
Kheims has the advantage, at least as concerns the Greek article.
To quote Dr. Moulton again :

As the Latin language has no definite article, it might well be
supposed that of all Enghsh versions the Rhemish would be the least
accurate in this point of translation. The very reverse is actually
the case. There are many instances (a comparatively hasty search
has discovered more than forty) in which of all versions, from
Tyndale's to the Authorized, inclusive, this alone is correct in regard
to the article (p. 188).

Another defect of King James's Revision was the neglect of the
principal of verbal identity. The Revisers of 1881 admit —

* " History of the English Bible," pp. 185-188.

The Revision of the New Testament. 131

That this would now be deemed hardly consistent with the require-
ments of faithful translation. They seem to have been guided by the
feeling that their Version would secure for the words they used a
lasting place in the language ; and they express a fear lest they should
" be charged (by scoffers) with some unequal dealing towards a great
number of good English words," which, without this liberty on their
part, would not have a place in the pages of the English Bible. Still
it cannot be doubted that they carried this liberty too far, and that the
studied avoidance of uniformity in the rendering of the same words,
even when occurring in the same context, is one of the blemishes in
their work.

But the most serious fault of all is that the Authorized
Versions contains absolute errors. Thomas Ward, in 1737, gave
a list of some in the columns of his " Errata.'^ Many of these
were corrected in the editions 1763 and 1769. Dr. Ellicott, in
the Preface to the '^ Pastoral Epistles/'' says :

It is vain to cheat our souls with the thought that these errors are
either insignificant or imaginary. There are errors, there are inac-
curacies, there are misconceptions, there are obscurities, not, indeed, so
many in number or so grave in character as some of the forward
spirits of our day would persuade us ; but there are misrepresenta-
tions of the language of the Holy Ghost, and that man who, after
being in any degree satisfied of this, permits himself to bow to the
counsels of a timid or popular obstructiveness, or who, intellectually
unable to test the truth of these allegations, nevertheless permits him-
self to denounce or deny them, will, if they be true, most surely at
the dread day of final account have to sustain the tremendous charge
of having dealt deceitfully with the inviolable Word of God.*

Considering that this is the candid confession of an AngUcan
Bishop, Protestants have set to work to revise their Bible none
too soon.

Perhaps it may be not uninteresting to give one or two speci-
mens of not very successful attempts at revision or improved
translation which have been made from time to time. Dr. Eadie
and Professor Plumptre give many examples. "The young lady
is not dead,'^ " A gentleman of splendid family, and opulent
fortune had two sons," " We shall not pay the common debt of
nature, but by a soft transition,''' &c. These are from "Harwood^s
Literal Translation of the New Testament," made, as the author
claims, with '' freedom, spirit and elegance ! " The next is from
a version which is the reverse of elegant. Describing the death
of Judas, it says: "Falling prostrate, a violent internal spasm

* '* Pastoral Epistles," p. xiii.

K %

132 The Revision of the New Testament.

ensued, and all his viscera were emitted/' " Blessed are you
amongst women and blessed is your incipient offspring."
Another enterprising reviser published the Gospels in a dramatic
form. The great Franklin tried his hand at a new version of
the Book of Job, and by his conspicuous failure rejoiced the
soul of Mr. Matthew Arnold, who says :

I well remember how, after I first read it, I drew a deep breath of
relief, and said to myself, "After all, there is a stretch of humanity
beyond Franklin's victorious good sense."*

The Baptists made a translation of the New Testament, and
St. John became " the immerser,'' and our Lord was made to
say, "I have an immersion to undergo/' In another version
repentance was translated " change of mind," and thus the
precept "do penance'' was made very easy of fulfilment —
"change your mind." The Unitarians brought out a transla-
tion which was very Arian. These attempts would have made
all serious revision impossible, had not " The Five Clergymen,"
of whom Dr. EUicott was one, showed that it was quite possible to
combine more accurate rendering with due regard for the old
version.

Convocation took up the matter seriously in 1 870, but the two
Provinces could not agree. The Convocation of Canterbury were
eager for the work, but the Northern Assembly did not think it
opportune. One dignitary thought that to revise the English
Bible would be " like touching the Ark." Another right reverend
prelate deprecated " sending our beloved Bible to the crucible to
be melted down." A third thought they had better wait till the
" Speaker's Commentary " was finished, which was like Cranmer's
famous saying about the Bishop's Bible — that it would be ready
*' the day alter Doomsday." Certainly there was good reason to
hesitate before undertaking such a serious task as amending the
English Bible, the pillar and ground of the popular creed. The
estimate of probable change was high — possibly some 20,000
emendations in the New Testament alone, many of them affect-
ing the text itself. Dr. Thirlwall spoke of favourite proof-texts
disappearing from their present prominence in current homiletical
teaching. Dr. EUicott said that there "were passages not a few
which revision would certainly relieve from much of their present
servitude of misuse in religious controversy." Dr. Owen had said
long before that Walton's various readings in his Polyglott would
make men papists or atheists. And Lord Panmurehad solemnly
declared at a public meeting at Edinburgh " that the prospect of

* " Culture and Anarchy," p. 44<.

The Revision of the Few Testament, 133

a new version is fraught with the utmost danger to the Protestant
liberties of this country, if not to the Protestant religion itself,"

Undaunted by these terrors, the Convoeation of Canterbury
settled down to do the work by itself, the University Presses
finding the money as the price of copyright. The work was Ui
be done by its own members, but liberty was given " to invite
the co-operation of any eminent for scholarship, to whatever
nation or religious body they may belong." Two committees were
to be formed, one for each Testament, and rules for guidance were
drawn up. To make as few changes as possible ; to go twice over
the ground ; changes to be settled by vote, the majority to have
the text, the minority the margin. The rules were mainly copied
from those given to the Revisers of 1611, except in the matter
of voting. It must be confessed that " Gospel by ballot " is an
essentially modern idea. About fifty Revisers were selected in
England and thirty in America — Churchmen, Presbyterians,
Baptists, and Methodists. Cardinal Newman and Dr. Pusey
were invited, but declined to attend. Convocation, regardless of
Christian sentiment, also invited to their aid Mr. Vance Smith,
a Unitarian, who may be a distinguished scholar, but is certainly
no Christian, and they gave him a place, not in the Old Testa-
ment committee, but in the New, which was unpardonable. The
Anglo-American " Septuagint,^^ with a few spare men in case of
accidents, was now complete — a somewhat heterogeneous body cer-
tainly, with doctrinal differences as wide as the Atlantic dividing
them, but empowered by Convocation to revise the Gospel, and to
settle the Bible of the future.

Now, it must be remembered that since the year 1611, a new
science has been born into the world, called Textual Criticism —
a science which professes to enable men of sufficient self-
confidence to determine with absolute certainty, by the aid of
a small number of MSS., hardly legible, what the text of the
Scripture really is. This science, at least in the opinion of its
professors, quite compensates for the loss of the inspired
Autographs, and by its aid the textual critic has no difficulty
in telling amidst thousands of various readings, what the
sacred writer really wrote. This would be an unmixed blessing
to the religious world, if textual critics could but agree one
with another. That each critic should have his own theory
of recension, and his own view of the age and genealogy of
different MSS., is not to be wondered at. But that no two
critics can agree upon a plain matter of fact is certainly
surprising. To take an instance from the much-disputed
reading of 1 Timothy iii. 16. If we ask what is the reading
of one particular MS., the Codex Alexandrinus in the British
Museum, one critic says it is ** God," another says it is

tBis The Revision of the New Testament

"indisputably the relative pronoun." All turns upon the
presence or absence of a faint line. One distinguished critic
•examines with a ^'strong lens" and says the disputed line is
really the sagitta of an epsilon on the other side of the vellum.
Another, equally distinguished, who says he has eyes like
microscopes, saw two lines, one a little above the other."^

What, then, has textual criticism done for the New Testament?
It has destroyed the oldTextus Receptus, but it has failed to con-
struct another in its place. Since the days of Griesbach every
critic of any textual pretensions makes a text for himself.
Lachmann, Scholz, Tregelles and Tischendorf have published
their texts. Dr. Westcott and Dr. Hart have just published
another, the result of twenty years* toil.

Here, then, lay the chief difficulty of the revision of the New
Testament. King Jameses Revisers had an easy task — simply
to translate the text that Pope Stephens, as Bentley calls him,
had fixed for them. But the Revisers of ] 881 had first to find
the text and then make the translation. Like Nabuchodonosoi's
wise men, they were required first to find the dream and then
make out the interpretation. If they have failed, the blame
must rest not upon them, for they could hardly be expected to
be all Daniels, but upon the Church which set them to such a
task. To any one who knows what textual criticism is, how
dubious in its methods, how revolutionary in its results, it is
amazing that any Church calling itself Christian should hand
over the Sacred Scriptures, the very title-deeds of its existence,
to the chance voting of critics, who are scholars first and
Christians afterwards, and some not Christians at all. That
it should give to these men power over the Word of God,
to bind and loose, to revise and excise, to put in and leave out,
to form the text as well as to give the interpretation. Yet this
has been done by that Church, which made it an article of its
creed that other Churches had erred and that nothing was to
be believed but what was found in Scripture and could be proved
thereby !

After ten and a half years of discussing and voting in
407 sessions, the Anglo-American Septuagint have finished the
first part of their work — the New Testament. The committee of
the Old Testament will require three or four years more. King
James's Bible occupied nearly three years. But then the New
Revision has been gone over seven times and has twice crossed
and recrossed the Atlantic. On the 17th of May the much-
travelled, oft- revised version was published to the world, both the

* Scrivener's " Textual Criticism," p. 554 ; Ellicott's ^' Pastoral
Epistles," p. 103.

The Revision of the New Testament. 135

Enj^llsh Translation and the Greek Text, as they read it. That
day will be ever memorable in the calendar of the Church of
England, but whether as a feast or a fast, time alone will show.
Perhaps, as in the case of the Greek Septuagint, it may be both.
The Kevisers claim for their work, by the mouth of their great
oracle, Dr. EUicott, the credit of " thoroughness, loyalty to the
Authorized Versions, and due recognition of the best judgments of
antiquity." That it has been thorough is proved by the number
of emendations, which are considerably in excess of the estimate
first given. These number about nine to every five verses in
the Gospels, and fifteen to every five in the Epistles. In other
words, there are some 20,000 corrections, fifty per cent, being
textual. Considering they were bound by express rule " to
introduce as few alterations as possible into the text of the
Authorized Version,'^ this is pretty thorough. What will the
good people in England and Scotland think who believe in the
verbal inspirativ^n of the English Bible, looking upon it as the
pure, authentic, and unadulterated Word of God ? It seems to
us that the revision is too thorough for the popular mind, and
not thorough enough for the educated. The more advanced
suggestions from the American committee, appended to the
Revised Version prove this. By loyalty to the Authorized
Version we presume Dr. Ellicott means that they have not
spoilt its '^ grave majestic English," or broken the charm of " the
music of its cadences " or marred the " felicities of its rhythm.''
Now this is just what they have done, and what they could not
help doing with their minute verbal literalism. Still they need
not have written bad grammar, as the author of '^ The Dean^s
English" shows that they have done. Deep study of the Greek
grammar has perhaps made them forget tji^ir own. As to the
claim about "a due recognition of the best judgments of
antiquity," Dr. Ellicott admits that though " not equally patent it
will rarely be looked for in vain." On the contrary, we think
that it is conspicuous by its absence. Again, he claims that it is
" no timid revision, without nerve enough to aim at compara-
tive finality." A revision which leaves out some forty entire
verses and makes twenty thousand changes cannot be charged
with timidity. But ''comparative finality " is another matter.
It is an illusion to suppose that finality can be attained by petty
compromises with rationalism. Now textual criticism is a tool
belonging to rationalism. The Revisers have borrowed it to help
them to revise their Bible. They have used the tool sparingly,
but they have taught others to use it, who will be less gentle.
With a Variorum Bible and good eyesight, even an ignorant man
can revise his Bible for himself; and soon there will be no Bible
to revise. In the first days of Protestantism private judgment

186 The Revision of the New Testament

fixed what the Scripture meant ; now textual criticism settles
what Scripture says; and shortly " hij^her criticism" will reject
text and meaning alike. What has happened iu Germany will
happen in England.

We have next to examine the New Version in detail to see how
it will affect Catholic truth. In the first place, there are several
important corrections and improved renderings. The Revisers
have done an act of justice to Catholics by restoring the true
reading of 1 Cor. xi. 27, "Whosoever shall eat the bread or
drink the cup/' &c., and thus removing a corruption which Dean
Stanley owned was due " to theological fear or partiality/' They
have removed from their version the reproach of Calvinism by
translating St. Paul correctly. Beza^s well-known interpolation
in Heb. x. 38, " any man/' brought in to save righteous Cal-
vinists from supposing they could ever fall away, has disappeared.
But perhaps the most surprising change of all is John v. b9. It
is no longer " Search the Scriptures/' but *' Ye search /' and
thus Protestantism has lost the very cause of its being. It has
also been robbed of its only proof of Bible inspiration by the
correct rendering of 2 Tim. iii. 16, *^ Every Scripture inspired of
God is also profitable/' &c. The old translation appears in the
margin, a minority of the translators apparently adhering to it.
Marriage is no more a necessity for eternal salvation in all men.
The Apostles have now power to "forgive" sins, and not simply
to " remit " them. " Confess therefore your sins " is the new
reading of James v. 16, and the banished particle has returned to
bear witness against Protestant evasion. Some amends, too,
have been made to Our Blessed Lady. She is declared by the
Angel who spoke to St. Joseph to be " the Virgin " foretold by
Isaias, and she is "endued with grace," at least in the margin.
Why could they not have softened the apparent harshness of our
Lord's word in John ii. 4, when, as Dr. Westcott owns, " in the
original there is not the least tinge of reproof, but an address of
courteous respect, even of tenderness?"

But there are several points to v/hich we must take exception.
For instance, to say in Phil. ii. 6, that Christ " counted it not a
prize to be on an equality with God" is bad translation and
worse divinity. They have spoilt St. Paul's description of charity
by calling it "love/' thus falling back into Tyndale's error, which
Lord Bacon praised the Bheims translators for correcting. As
they have sinned against Charity, so also have they wronged
Faith by calling it "the assurance of things hoped for" (Heb.
XI. 1). In the same Epistle they have translated the same word
viroaraaig in three difierent ways, as substance, confidence, and
assurance. In Our Lord's commission to St. Peter (John xxi. 17)
they have chosen the weak word "tend" as the equivalent of

The Revision of the New Testament. 137

iroijuiaiva ; yet in Matthew ii. 6, where the Prophet applies the
same verb to Christ, they render it '^be Shepherd over," and in
the Apocalypse it is " rule.'' The same word Paraclete is
rendered Comforter in St. John's Gospel, but Advocate in his
Epistle. For fear lest they should countenance the Catholic
doctrine of relative worship, the dying Jacob in Heb. xi. 21 is
still left " leaning upon the top of his staff," and is made a hero
of faith for so doing ! It was expected that the Revisers, in
deference to modern refinement, would get rid of hell and
damnation, like the judge who was said to have dismissed hell
with costs. Damnation and kindred words have gone, but hell
still remains in the few passages where Geheima stands in the
original. A new word, " Hades,'' Pluto's Greek name, has been
brou^'ht into our lano-uacre to save the old word hell from over-
work. The Rich Man is no longer in "hell" he is now '^ in
Hades ;" but he is still " in torment." So Hades must be Pur-
gatory, and the Revisers have thus moved Dives into Purgatory,
and Purgatory into the Gospel. Dives will not object ; but what
will Protestants say ?

Nor have they been more happy in their treatment of the
Lord's Prayer. St. Jerome's experience with the Psalms might
have taught translators that it is not wise to alter an accustomed
prayer for the sake of a slight gain in accuracy. People always
resent interference with the form of words they have learnt from
their childhood. The balance, if there is an}^ in favour of a mas-
culine instead of the old neuter renderino^ is too slig^ht to warrant
the rendering "Deliver us from the evil one.'' The Syriac
version supports the rendering, and so do some of the Greek
Fathers. The article. Bishop Middleton says, is here quite im-
partial. The Latin bears either interpretation, and the Catholic
Church in her explanation of the "Our Father" in the Tridentine
Catechism gives both. The question about " our daily bread,''
whether it is to-day's or to-morrow's, is more difficult. There
seems to have been some hard voting on the point. Dr. Light-
foot and his supporters were out- voted and driven into the margin
to pray for " bread for the coming day." Ittlovgioq is a word
which occurs but once in the New Testament ; it has a doubtful
etymology and more than one meaning. ■ The old Latin had
qiiotidianuvfi, but St. Jerome changed it into supers ubstantialem
in St. Matthew's version, whilst he left St. Luke's unchanged.
St. Bernard forbade Heloise to adopt the former word, and
Abelard wrote to defend her.

The Revisers have striven to remedy the ignorance of their
predecessors in the matter of Greek synonymes and have thus
brought out distinctions obliterated in the Authorized Version.
The four living creatures of the Apocalypse are no longer " beasts."

1 .3S The Revision of the Few Testament.

• Temple and sanctuary are distinguished. The compounds
of Kpivuv are no longer mixed so confusedly. Devils are car
fully marked off from demons; children from babes. "Be n(
children in mind ; howbeit in malice be ye babes, but in mi
be men''"' (1 Cor. xiv. 20). In this and a multitude of instances
the Revisers have shown scholarship, But possibly the poverty
of our language did not allow them to bring out the difference
between (piXdv and ayawav; or between (5apog and ^opriov
(Gal. vi. 2, 6). So St. Paul must needs go on giving contra-
dictory advice.

We miss some of the oddities of the old version ; still the new
is not without some peculiarities to make up. The mariners in
St. Paul's voyage do not " fetch a compass ;" the Apostles no
longer keep their "carriages^' (Acts xxi. 15). "Old bottles*'
are changed into "wineskins/' candles into lamps, the thieves
have become " robbers," the birds of the air have lost their
"nests'' and now have only ** lodging-places." David is no
longer a time-server (Acts xiii. 36), but the Baptist's head is
still in the " charger." " Banks " have at last found a place in
the Gospel. The man who scandalizes, or rather " makes to
stumble/' a child will find it "profitable for him" to have
"a millstone turned by an ass" hanged about his neck; at least
BO the margin puts it (Matt, xviii. 6). " The woman ought to
have a sign o/ authority on her head, because of the angels ; but
the margin reads "over her head" (I Cor. xi. 11). It will no
longer be open to doubt about the sex of " Euodia and Syntyche,
who are exhorted " to be of the same mind in the Lord/' for it
is expressly added "help these women" (Phil. iv. 2).

It was hardly perhaps in human nature to expect a committee
made up for the most part of married clergymen to forego a text
so dear to them as 1 Cor. ix. 5. A^eXtpj) is rightly rendered &
" believer/' but in their eyes yvvri could have no other meaning
than wife. Yet Dr. Wordsworth might have taught them that
aStX^jiv yvvaiKa meant simply a Christian woman, and might have
ehuwn them by the testimony of Tertullian, whom he quotes,
that St. Peter was the only Apostle who was married. Possibly, too,
a correct translation mig^ht have been thought detrimental to
Protestant Societies for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts.

Again, preachers will grieve to find that they have been robbed
of a favourite text, and that Agrippa is neither " almost " nor
" altogether a Christian." Total abstainers will learn that they
are to " be no longer drinkers of water /' and vegetarians will
be disgusted to find that their lentil pottage, so appetizing to
the hungry Esau, is changed into "a morsel of meat."

The Revisers have thought good to make certain changes in
the Apostolic College. They have discovered hitherto unsus-

The Revision of the New Testament, 139

peeted relationship between Judas the Traitor and the Apostle
Simon the Zealot. In John vi. 71, Judas is called the " son of
Simon Iscariot/^ On the other hand, they have deprived the
Apostle St. Jude of the honour of being " the brother of James/'
and so of the authorship of the Epistle.

The American Revisers are like the disciples St. Paul found at
Ephesus, who did not know that there was a Holy Ghost. They
suggest that the word should everywhere be changed into Holy
Spirit. This suggestion was not accepted, and was banished to
the limbo of rejected American suggestions. But Mr. Vance
Smith blames the English committee for their conduct, and says
that " they have not shown that judicial freedom from theological
bias which was certainly expected of them.-" The American
Kevisers are quite above reproach on this point. So great is their
freedom from dogmatic prejudice that they suggested the removal
of all mention of the sin of heresy — heresies in their eyes being
only " factions/' They desired also that the Apostles and
• Evangelists should drop their title of Saint, and be content to be
called plain John, and Paul, and Thomas. This results, no doubt,
from their democratic taste for strict equality, and their hatred of
titles even in the Kingdom of Heaven. It is certainly sur-
prising to find these gentlemen a little over-particular in the
matter of St. Peter's scant attire when he jumped overboard.
They wished to add a marginal note to the effect that St. Peter
" had on his under-garment only.'' On another point also, not
we think of any great importance, the American Bevisers have
thought it necessary to express dissent from their English
brethren. And this in regard to the fate of the herd of swine,
into which the devils entered and drove headlong into the lake.
The English Kevisers say they were " choked," but the American
verdict is different ; they would bring them in as " drowned." It
will thus be seen that these gentlemen combine the greatest
doctrinal breadth with most minute scrupulosity of detail. See-
ing how ill their suggestions have been received by their English
brethren, who are still under the yoke of antiquated conservatism,
it is quite possible that next time they will revise their own Bible
for themselves according to their own unfettered ideas.

In regard to proper names it seems to us that the Revisers have
taken a most unwarrantable liberty with the language of the
New Testament. They say " our general practice has been to
follow the Greek form of names, except in the case of persons
and places mentioned in the Old Testament : in this case
we have followed the Hebrew" (Preface, p. xviii). In other
words, they have thought themselves competent to teach Apostles
and Evangelists how to spell proper names ! St. Matthew wrote
Aram and Salathiel, but he should have written, as the New

140 The Revision of the New Testament.

Version correctly puts, Ram and Shealtlel. St. Luke mistook
Juda for Joda, and St. James seems not to have known that the
right name of Elias was Elijah. Unless it should turn out that
the Revisers were really inspired to correct the New Testament
as well as the Universal Church, we think them guilty both of
great presumption and a gross blunder. These modern scribes
would make the Gospel yield to the Law, and the Church bow to
the synagogue. They prefer the silly pedantry of a few wrong-
headed Reformers of the sixteenth century to the practice of
Christendom in every age. Are they ignorant of the fact that
the inspired writers of the New Testament took their quotations
as well as their proper names, not from the Hebrew, but from
the Greek Septuagint ? To be consistent, they should have
corrected the quotations too; perhaps they may yet do so on
further Revision.

•Lastly, we come to the most serious point of all — viz., the
passages the Revisers have thought proper to leave out
altogether. So far it has been a question of translation and
of names, but here the vital integrity of Sacred Scripture is
affected. By the sole authority of textual criticism these
men have dared to vote away some forty verses of the Inspired
Word. The Eunuch's Baptismal Profession of Faith is gone ;
the Angel of the Pool of Bethesda has vanished; but the
Angel of the Agony remains — till the next Revision. The
Heavenl}^ Witnesses have departed, and no marginal note
mourns their loss. The last twelve verses of St. Mark are
detached from the rest of the Gospel, as if ready for removal
as soon as Dean Burgon dies. The account of the woman taken
in adultery is placed in brackets, awaiting excision. Many
other passages have a mark set against them in the margin to
show that, like forest trees, they are shortly destined for the
critic's axe. Who can tell when the destruction will cease ?
What have the offending verses done that textual critics should
tear them from their home of centuries in the shrine of God's
Temple ? The sole offence of many is that the careless copyist of
some old Uncial MS. skipped them over. Some, again, have been
swallowed up by "the all-devouring monster Omoio-Teleuton''
— the fatal tendency which possesses a drowsy or a hurried
writer to mistake the ending of a verse further down for the
similar ending of the verse he copied last. The Angel of
Bethesda may have cured "the sick, the blind, the halt and
the withered,'' but modern science has no need of his services,
for it has proved, without identifying the site, that the spring
was intermittent and the water chalybeate. But our intelligent
critics forgot to get rid of the paralytic, whom the Lord cured,
and as long as he remains in the text his words will convict

The Revision of the New Testament HI

fchem of folly. To take another instance. In many places in
the Gospels there is mention of "prayer and fasting." Here
textual critics suspect that "an ascetic bias" has added the
fasting; so they expunge it, and leave in prayer only. If an "ascetic
bias" brought fasting in, it is clear that a bias the reverse of
ascetic leaves it out. St. Luke's second-first Sabbath (vi. 1)
puzzled the translators, so they reduced it to the rite of an
ordinary Sabbath by omitting the perplexing word dtvrEpoTrptortit.
Yet one of the fundamental rules of textual criticism, and they
have only two or three, says, "ardua lectio praestet proclivi."
Perhaps the reading here was too " hard " for the translators,
and so they changed the rule. We have no patience to discuss
calmly their shameful treatment of the " Three Heavenly
Witnesses.'"' The Revisers have left out the whole verse in
1 John V. 7, 8, without one word of explanation. Surely no
one but a textual critic could be capable of such a deed. Nor
would any one critic have had the hardihood to do such a thing
by himself. It required the corporate audacity of a Committee of
Critics for the commission of such a sacrilege. But textual critics
are like book-worms — devoid of light and conscience, following
the blind instincts of their nature, they will make holes in the
most sacred of books. The beauty, the harmony, and the poetry
of the two verses would have melted the heart of any man who
had a soul above parchment. Fathers have quoted them,
martyrs died for them, saints preached them. The Church of
the East made them her Profession of Faith ; the Church of the
West enshrined them in her Liturgy. What miserable excuses
can these Revisers have for such a wanton outrage on Christian
feeling? They cannot find the words in their oldest Greek
MSS.i The oldest of them is younger than the Sacred Auto-
graphs by full three hundred years, and the best of them is full
of omissions. Most of them are copies of copies ; and in families
of MSS., if the father sins by omission, all his children, whether
uncial or cursive, must bear the loss. The textual critics of the
seventeenth century left out the second half of the 23rd verse of
the 2nd chapter of this very Epistle of John, because it was not
found amongst the few MSS. which formed the slender stock-in-
trade of Incipient Textual Criticism. Since then older and
better MSS. have been added, containing the missing sentence ;
and the critics of the nineteenth century have been forced to
restore to the Sacred Text what their fathers stole. Who knows
but that another Tischendorf may arise, and find in some secluded
monastery of the Nitrian Desert a MS. older than the Sinaitic,
containing the " Heavenly Witnesses ?" But true critics, who
are not merely textual, know that there is a higher criterion of
genuineness than MS. authority. There is what Griesbach

142 The Revision of the New Testament

calls an ''interna bonitas;^^ there is what Bengel calls an
'^ adamantina cohserentia/' which he says, speaking of this very
passage, "compensate for the scarcity of MSS." But our
enlightened Revisers contend that the passage is a gloss of St.
Augustine's, which has slipped from the margin into the text,
when nobody was lookina;. How, then, did TertuUian and St.
Cyprian quote the words a century before ? How is it that the
Santa Croce " Speculum," which Cardinal Wiseman thought
to be St. Augustine's own, gives the words three separate times as
the words of Scripture? It is beyond dispute that the Old
Latin Version, made in the first half of the second century, and
revised by St. Jerome in the fourth, contained the words. Still,
they persist, the Peshito Syriac omits them. So does it omit
four entire Epistles, to say nothing of the Apocalyse. Yet
St. Ephrem, who certainly knew what was in the Syriac
Bible, quotes, or rather alludes to the words. But they say
the Fathers did not make much use of the words against
the Arians. There is many another handy verse, the genuine-
ness of which no one doubts, though the Fathers never cited it.
The Fathers were not always quoting Scripture with chapter and
verse, like modern Bible-readers and tract-distributors. But here is
a fact, worth more in point of evidence than a cart-load of
quotations. In the year 483, at the height of the great Vandal
persecutions, four hundred African bishops in synod assembled
drew up a Confe.ssion of the Catholic Faith containing the
disputed text. This Confession they presented to the Arian
Hunneric, King of the Vandals. Many of them sealed their
testimony in their blood. About fourteen hundred years later
some two dozen Anglican prelates, aided by Methodist preachers.
Baptist teachers, and one Unitarian, assembled in synod at West-
minster to revise the New Testament, and without a semblance of
persecution they yielded up to modern unbelief a verse which
Catholic bishops held to the death against Arianism. These men
are worse than the ancient Vandals, who only killed the bishops,
but did not mutilate the text of Sacred Scripture. In this
Socinian age the world could better spare a whole bench of
Anglican bishops than one single verse of Holy Writ which
bears witness to Christ's Divinity and the mystery of the Blessed
Trinity. Well might Strauss ask the question in one of our
English periodicals, ''Are we Christians ?'' Well may M. Renan
cross the water to lecture England on the origin of Christianity.
But these modern excisers have committed a blunder as well
as a crime. They stealthily cut out the verse, but they have
joined the pieces so clumsily that any one can detect the fraud.
As the passage now stands in their version is without sense,
though they foist in the word "agree'' to smooth over the

The Revision of the New Testament. 143

difficulty. *'The witness of God'^ in the following verse is
meaningless without the Heavenly witnesses. Their new-made
Greek text will make schoolboys wonder how the first Greek
scholars of the day could have so forgotten their syntax as to
try and make a masculine participle agree with three neuter
nouns. The Article too, as Bishop Middleton foretold, will
reproach them with a half measure, for they should either have
kept both verses in or cut both out. Yet strange to say these
Revisers have no shame, no remorse for what they have done.
One of them likens what they have done to getting rid of a
perjured witness ! Another talks calmly of the Revisers being in
Paradise, and this after they have dared to take away from the
words of him who prophesied that God would take away such
men's part from the tree of life and out of the Holy City.

Cardinal Franzelin concludes his masterly defence of the Three
Heavenly Witnesses with a remark as true as it is sad. Pro-
testants, he says, have given up the verse because they have first
given up the doctrine it supports. St. Jerome says that after a
certain council which left the word Homousion out of its Creed,
the world awoke and shuddered to find itself Arian. On the 17th
of May the English-speaking world awoke to find that its Revised
Bible had banished the Heavenly Witnesses and put the devil in
the Lord's Prayer. Protests loud and deep went forth against the
insertion, against the omission none. It is well, then, that the
I Heavenly Witnesses should depart whence their testimony is no
j longer received. The Jews have a legend that shortly before the
t destruction of their Temple, the Shechinah departed from the
i Holy of Holies, and the Sacred Voices were heard saying, " Let
us go hence."" So perhaps it is to be with the English Bible,
the Temple of Protestantism. The going forth of the Heavenly
Witnesses is the sign of the beginning of the end. Lord
Panmure's prediction may yet prove true — the New Version will
be the death-knell of Protestantism. But one thing is certain, that,
as in the centuries before the birth of Protestantism, so after it
is dead and gone the Catholic Church will continue to read in
her Bible and profess in her Creed that " there are Three who give
testimony in Heaven and these Three are One."

We have spoken of the admissions, the peculiarities, and the
omissions of the newly Revised Version. It only remains to express
l^^r deep anxiety as to its effect upon the religious mind of
^^Higland and Scotland. It cannot but give a severe shock to
ijWoose who have been brought up in the strictest sect of Protes-
ts tantism. Their fundamental doctrine of verbal inspiration is
undermined. The land of John Knox will mourn its dying
Calvinism. The prophets of Bible religion will find no sure word,
from the Lord in the new Gospel. But assuredly the Broad Church

144 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa,' J

will widen their tents yet more, and rejoice in the liberty where-
with Textual Criticism has made them free. Already one of their
great oracles, himself a Reviser, has declared that Inspiration " is
not in a part but in the whole, not in a particular passage but in
the general tendency and drift of the complete words.'' And he
teaches a new way to convert the working-classes from their
unbeliefl "The real way/' he says, "to reclaim them is for the
Church frankly to admit that the documents on which they base
their claims to attention are not to be accepted in blind obedience,
but are to be tested and sifted and tried by all the methods that
patience and learning can bring to bear.'' Then Heaven help
the poor working man if his sole hope of salvation lies in the new
Gospel of Textual Criticism ! But what will those think who,
outside the Catholic Church, still retain the old Catholic ideas
about Church and Scripture? How bitter to them must be the
sight of their Anglican Bishops sitting with Methodists, Bap-
tists, and Unitarians to improve the English Bible according to
modern ideas of Progressive Biblical Criticism ! Who gave these
men authority over the written Word of God? It was not
Parliament, or Privy Council, but the Church of England acting
through Convocation. To whom do they look for the necessary
sanction and approval of their work, but to public opinion ? One
thing at least is certain, the Catholic Church will gain by the
New Revision, both directly and indirectly. Directly, because
old errors are removed from the translation ; indirectly, because
the " Bible-only " principle is proved to be false. It is now at
length too evident that Scripture is powerless without the Church
as the witness to its inspiration, the safeguard of its integrity, and
the exponent of its meaning. And it will now be clear to all
men which is the true Church, the real Mother to whom the
Bible of right belongs. Nor will it need Solomon's wisdom to
see that the so-called Church which heartlessly gives up the
helpless child to be cut in pieces by textual critics cannot be the
true Mother.

>e««S4&S«««a

Art. VI.— CATHOLIC MISSIONS IN EQUATORIAL
AFRICA.

1. To the Central African Lakes and Back. By Joseph

Thomson, F.R.G.S. London. 1881.

2. Les Missions Catholiques. Lyon.

IT is now nearly twenty years since a European traveller
crossing a series of swelling heights, all tufted with sheeny
plumes of plantain and banana, saw before him a great unknown
Ireshwaier sea which no white man had ever looked upon before.

{

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 14<5

It proved to be the mi^^hty reservoir which feeds with the
gathered raini'all of a vast tropical region the mysterious current
of the White Nile, at a distance of three thousand miles from
the point where it discharges the volume of its waters into the
Mediterranean. This equatorial sea washes the shores of a strange
but powerful kingdom, Uganda, or the Land of Drums, which,
thus isolated in the remote heart of Africa, possesses nevertheless
a certain amount of relative civilization. Rejoicing in the
exuberant bounty of tropical Nature, it is rich in fat herds and
luscious fruits, and supports a numerous and thriving population
in perennial and never-failing plenty. Self-sufficing and self-
subsisting, as it has nothing to desire, it has also nothing to fear
from the world without, and is sufficiently organized to resist
internal disorder or external attack under a form of government
bearing a shadowy resemblance to the feudal despotisms of
mediaeval Europe. Its ruler, the Kabaka, or Emperor, Mtesa,
holds barbarous State in his palisaded capital, attended by files
of guards, by obsequious courtiers, by pages swift as winged
Mercuries to convey his orders, and by the terrible " Lords of
the Cord,'^ or State executioners, ready on the merest movement of
his eyelids to draw sword on the designated victim and send his
severed head rolling to the tyrant^s feet. This redoubtable
potentate, who at the time when the first English traveller.
Captain Speke, visited his Court, was scarcely more than a boy
in years, combines all the furious passions of the African race
with a high degree of nervous excitability. The result is an
electric temperament, in which outbursts of sunny geniality are
liable to be interrupted, like those of the tropical sky, by sinister
caprices equally swift and sudden. On an excursion to an
island in the lake on which the above-mentioned explorer
accompanied him, one of the women of his train offered the
youthful despot a tempting fruit she had plucked in the woods.
Instead of accepting it, he turned on her in a paroxysm of
bestial rage and ordered her for immediate execution, nor did the
terrible incident appear to mar for a moment his enjoyment of
the day's pleasure.
^H When Mtesa declares war against an enemy, 150,000 warriors
^Hn their savage bravery of paint and feathers muster under their
^Hespective chiefs, and defile past the royal standard in the
^^•anther-like trot which is their marching style ; while a canoe
^^Keet 230 strong, manned by from 16,000 to 20,000 rowers and
pWlpearmen, appears to join the naval rendezvous upon the lake.
Tributary monarchs do homage to the powerful sovereign of

ijganda as their liege lord ; neighbouring states send embassies
a invoke his alliance ; and his great vassals, each in his own
rovince ruling with delegated authority equal to his own,
,„„., .

146 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa,

cower and tremble in his presence like the most abject of
slaves.

Seated in his chair of State, his feet resting on a leopard skin,
and clad in no unkingly fashion in a gold embroidered coat over
an ample snowy robe, a Zanzibar sword by his side, a tarbouche
or crimson fez upon his closely shaven head, his aspect is not
without a certain impressiveness conferred by the sense of
conscious power. His mobile bronze features have something of
the terrible fascination with which the association of slumbering
ferocity invests the repose of a wild beast, and few even of white
men conscious of all the prestige of civilization to sustain them,
have met without a feeling of involuntary awe the glance of the
large vivid eyes, in whose glooming shadows lurk such suggestions
of latent fury. The whole scene of his Court, with the discordant
clangour of wild music, the braying of ivory horns, roll of drums,
and shrill dissonance of fifes, the prostrate forms within, the
acclaiming thousands outside, the guards motionless as monu-
mentnl bronzes, presents a combination of outlandish strangeness
bewildering to the European visitor; while the picturesque
costumes, white mantles of silky-haired goatskin, clay-coloured
robes of bark-cloth draping dark athletic forms — for all are
decently clad, and the law prescribes a minimum of covering
without which the poorest may not stir abroad* — furnish elements
of pictorial effect not often found in African life. A rude but
powerful society is here made manifest, and something like the
raw material of civilization may be found in this land of primitive
plenty and comfort beneath the equator.

Nor is the king a mere untutored savage ; his demeanour is
not wanting in dignity, and both he and his principal courtiers
have acquired a foreign language, in addition to their native
tongue, both speaking and writing the Kiswaheli,t or Arab
dialect of the Eastern coast. Mtesa has even some claim to
rank among royal authors, for he has certain tablets, made of thin
slabs of Cottonwood, which he calls his '' books of wisdom," on
which he has noted down the results of his conversations with
the European travellers who have visited his Court. A strange
volume would these reminiscences of the African monarch prove,
should they, in these days of universal publication, find their way
to the printing press !

The ruler of Uganda has always shown a marked preference

* Even Captain Grant's knickerbockers were not considered sufficiently
decorous for an appearance at Court in Uganda.

t The African languages are largely inflected by the use of prefixes
altering the sense of the words, thus : — IT means country, as U-B,undi;
M, a single native, as M-Rundi ; Wa, people; Ki, language, as Wa-
Ganda, Ki-Ganda, the people and language of Uganda.

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 147

for the society of white men, whose visits supply his only form
of intellectual excitement. Astute and imaginative, he has
•Ireams of material advantages from their friendship, and is
anxious for European alliances against Egypt, whose advances
towards his northern frontier have made him uneasy as to the
chance of an attack. Thus policy and inclination combine to
make him desirous of attracting foreigners to his dominions.
He either feigns or feels a deep interest in theological discus-
sions, and has coquetted with more than one alien creed. A
Mussulman teacher, Muley-bin-Salim, previous to Stanley's visit
in 1875, had acquired a certain influence over his mind, and
effected a considerable improvement in his morals. Since then,
he has abandoned the use of the strong native beer which fired
his blood to madness, and has consequently been somewhat more
humane in his conduct. His subsequent apparent leaning to
Christianity roused Mr. Stanley's zeal with the desire to secure
so valuable a convert : the translation of a portion of the Bible
prepared for his benefit by the enterprising American traveller,
seemed to make some impression on him, and his request for
missionaries excited the emulation of Christendom in his behalf.
The missionaries have gone ; Catholic and Protestant divines have
expounded their doctrines in his presence, but Mtesa is still a
pagan, and by the last accounts more indomitably fixed in his
old beliefs than ever. Fitful as a child, though now in mature
manhood, he catches at each new form of excitement to satisfy
the cravings of his quick and eager intelligence ; then comes a
change of mood, and the restless, undisciplined nature turns in
another direction. Such is the man on whose caprices depend
the spiritual destinies of Equatorial Africa.

We must now transport the reader from Uganda and its Court
to a different scene, whose connection with it, not at first very
obvious, will develop later on. On the heights of El-Biar stood,
in the year 1868, an unpretending dwelling, overlooking
the blue bay of Algiers, and the town solidly white in the
sunshine, as though sculptured from a marble quarry on the
hillside. There, three lads, just issuing from childhood, were
undergoing a course of preparation for the arduous task to which
they had spontaneously consecrated themselves, and which was„
indeed, nothing less than the apostolate of Africa. From such
a small beginning has grown in the thirteen years since past, a
numerous and active religious body, now taking a leading part
in the regeneration of the continent which gave it birth.

The story of the Algerian Missions belongs to what may be
called the romance of religion. It is told by Mgr. Lavigerie^
Archbishop of Algiers, in a letter published serially in numbers
ofLes Missions GatholiqueSj extending from the 4th of March to

L 2

148 Catholic Missions in Eqvxitorial Africa,

the 6th of May, 1 881, in which he reviews the question of the
evangelization of Africa.

The French conquest of Algeria in 1830 restored to Christianity
that portion of the soil of Africa/but the authorities, fearing to excite
against them the spirit of Mussulman fanaticism by any appearance
of proselytism, strictly limited the ministrations of the clergy to
their own fellow-countrymen, the European settlers, and forbade
all interference with the religion of the natives. Thus, though
the Trap pists"^ established themselves, in 1843, at Staoueli, tlie
scene of the first French victory, and showed the Arabs by their
example what wealth of produce might be extracted from their
soil under careful cultivation, though the Jesuits were allowed to
open schools for the native children in Kabylia, no preaching of
Christian doctrine was admitted in combination with the secular
and practical lessons taught by these Orders. Many of the
Algerian clergy, nevertheless, entertained the hope that the
French occupation was destined to lead to the introduction of
Christianity into Africa; and posted thus at the gate of the great
heathen continent, they held themselves in readiness until a way
should be opened for them to enter it. Mgr. Lavigerie tells us
that this expectation alone induced him to give up an episcopal
see in France for the missionary diocese of Algiers. It was
the misfortunes of the natives during a dreadful famine, which
in 1868 devastated the country, that first brought them into
somewhat closer relations with the French clergy, and led to the
need being felt for a body of men fitted by special training
to deal with them. The terrible character of this catastrophe
may be inferred from the fact, that within a few months a fifth
of the population perished in the districts where it prevailed. The
Arab met his fate with his usual apathetic resignation to the
inevitable, covered his head with the folds of his white bernouse,
muttered, "Kismet" and died. But the dearth of material
sustenance was the harvest-home of charity. All through the
country thousands' of native children were left a prey to star-
vation, bereft of parents and kinsfolk, orphans of the famine.
The Archbishop sent out his priests and nuns into the streets
and highways, organized relief expeditions to remote places,
despatched his emissaries far and wide to collect all these
helpless derelicts of sufiering humanity, and bring them into the
archiepiscopal palace in Algiers. The quest was a productive one.
Soon the streets of the city witnessed a sad spectacle, as mules,
ambulances, and waggons began to arrive with their piteous
freight— children of all ages, in every stage of emaciation and

* One of their principal crops is the geranium, indigenous to the soil,
and cultivated over large tracts to be manufactured into perfumes in the
south of France. They have also introduced the culture of the vine.

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 149

inanition, many already beyond the reach of human aid. There
ensued a curious scene, for the little creatures, even in the last
extremity of suffering, manifested the liveliest terror at finding
themselves in the hands of the Ronmis — Christians, or Roman
Catholics — vvho, they had been taught to believe, lived by sucking
the blood of children. These fears were however quickly dis-
sipated by the tender solicitude of their kind captors, and they
soon reconciled themselves to their new home.

When results could be ascertained, the Archbishop found
himself at the head of a family of two thousand orphans,
with the whole charge of their education and maintenance
thrown upon him. He joyfully accepted the responsibility, for
the rescued little ones were objects of special interest to him, not
only as so many young lives preserved by his instrumentality, but
also as the possible seed of Arab Christianity in the future. But
in the care of his orphanages and other institutions originating
like them in the famine, he much required the help of an eccle-
siastical body specially trained for intercourse with the natives, as
the French clergy, rigorously excluded from all ministrations among
them, were unacquainted even with their language. We shall
let him tell in his own words how this need was supplied, as if in
miraculous answer to his wishes, by a totally unexpected offer
from M. Girard, Superior of the Ecclesiastical Seminary of Kouba,
who had long shared his desires for the evangelization of the
natives.

On that day then (writes Mgr. Lavigerie), this venerable son of
St. Vincent de Paul, in every way worthy of such a spiritual father,
appearing before me with three pupils of his seminary, said: ^' These
young men are come to offer themselves to you for the African
apostolate — with God's grace, this will be the beginning of the work
we have so much desired." I seem to see him, as with his white
head bowed he knelt before me, with his three seminarists, and begged
me to bless and accept their devotion. I did indeed bless them,
filled at once with astonishment and emotion, for I had received no
previous intimation of this offer ; and coinciding exactly with the
anxieties occupying my mind at the moment, it seemed to me almost
like the result of supernatural interposition. I bade them rise and be
seated ; I interrogated them at length ; I brought forward, as was my
duty, all possible objections. They answered them, and my consent
was at last given to a trial by way of experiment.

Thus it was that the work began in humble fashion, from elements
to all appearance the most feeble ; an aged man already on the verge of
the grave, three young men, or, more properly speaking, three children
scarcely entered upon life.

I was incapable, as I have already said, of devoting myself to the
task of their training, and yet it was indispensable, for a special
vocation, to separate them from the great seminary. Providence itself

150 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa,

provided me with the means of doing this, by sending to Algiers, in
search of a mild climate, two saintly religious, both since dead. One
belonged to the Jesuit Society, the other to that of the Priests of Saint
Sulpice. At that very time they had been asking me for some duty
compatible with their declining strength. I established them with our
three seminarists in a humble house which was to be let on the
heights of El-Biar overlooking Algiers from the south. There, in
former days, the French army coming from Staoueli compelled this
ancient nest of Mussulman pirates to conclude the struggle, and throw
open to the civilized world the gates of barbarism. Such was the
first noviciate.

From this insignificant beginning the institution of Algerian
missionaries grew and extended so rapidly as to number at the
present time a hundred priests, in addition to lay-brothers and
a hundred and thirty postulants and novices. Their mother-
house is the Maison-Carree near Algiers, memorable as the
scene of the heroic end of forty French soldiers, who, at the
time of the invasion, surrounded and overpowered by a Mussul-
man force, were offered life and protection if they would em-
brace Islamism, and refusing to abjure their religion, were shot
down to a man. Here the missionaries have now quite a little
colony, as dependencies of various kinds are grouped round the
central building.

Among the first charges confided to them were naturally the
orphanages, the objects of Mgr. Lavigerie^s special solicitude.
He had long had a plan in connection with them, which many
at first deemed chimerical, but which has been so successfully
carried out, as not only to fulfil the end immediately in view, but
to furnish the model of a system imitated wherever practicably
in all subsequent missionary enterprise in Africa. This was to
provide for the future of his orphan proteges, by forming them
into independent communities, encouraging marriages between
the girls and young men he had reared, and establishing the
youthful couples as they thus paired ofi", in dwellings prepared
for them on a tract of land purchased expressly, and divided into
allotments sufficient each for the support of a family.

Thus have been called into existence the Christian villages of
St. Cyprien and Ste. Monique, situated at a distance of 180
kilometres from Algiers on the railway which runs from that
city to Oran, along what was in former times the line of the
great highway of an older civilization, leading from Carthage to
the Pillars of Hercules. The passing traveller sees groups of
white dwellings embowered in carob trees and eucalyptus, clus-
tered round a little church on the brown hillside; below the
Chelif winds like a silver ribbon through the plain, into which
jut the lower spurs of the mountains of Kabylia. If he ask a'

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 151

European travelling companion the name of one of these little
Christian colonies in the wilderness, he will be told it is St.
Cyprien du Tighsel, so called from a rivulet running close by.
But should he, in straying through the wild mountains to the
south, put the same question to a wandering Arab, he will
receive a different answer, and will hear it described in more
poetic language, as the " village of the children of the marabout,'*
for so is Mgr. Lavigerie styled among the natives.

The interior arrangements of these little hamlets are charac-
terized by an air of neatness and comfort, contrasting favourably
with the squalor of the ordinary Kabyle village. Next to this
peculiarity, what will most strike a stranger will probably be
the extreme youth of all the inhabitants. No withered crone is
to be seen guiding the movements of the children playing at the
house-doors; no grey-haired elders are there to counsel the
younger men at their avocations. To their spiritual fathers
alone can they look for guidance and direction, for the Algerian
missionaries are here in their field of activity among the natives.

But the great gala of the inhabitants is when the Arch-
bishop comes in person to visit the colonies he has planted. The
little ones, who already begin to abound in every youthful house-
hold, stand in no awe of the ecclesiastical dignity of '^ Grand-
papa Monseigneur,'' as the good prelate loves to hear them
call him, for these children of his charity in the second gene-
ration are the spoiled pets of his paternal affection. He cannot
even bear to have them excluded from the little church when he
goes there to hold solemn service, though the addition of such
very juvenile members to the congregation introduces an un-
mistakable element of distraction into its devotions. The Arabs
and Kabyles from the mountains in the neighbourhood, when
they come to make acquaintance with their Christian fellow-
countrymen, are struck with admiration and wonder at what
they see. "Never," they exclaim, holding up their hands in
astonishment, " would your own fathers, if they had been alive,
have done so much for you as the great marabout of the
Christians 1"

The visits of these natives have given rise to a further exten-
sion of the work of beneficence. It is an invariable rule of the
Order of the Algerian Missionaries to tend with their own hands
all the sick who come before them; and as the fame of their
medical skill extended through the mountains, patients began to
flock into them from far and wide. Those who were present
when these poor infirm creatures collected, with imploring
gestures, round the Fathers, dressed too in the native costume,
seemed to see one of the scenes of the New Testament re-enacted
before their eyes.

152 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa,

But many of these sufferers required prolonged care, which
the missionaries, living at great distances from their homes,
were unable to bestow on them. Then Mgr. Lavigerie, ever
inventive in good works, began to revolve a new idea, that of
erecting, in the village of St. Cyprien, a hospital for natives,
where they should be received and tended gratuitously. There
were of course great difficulties in the way of such an under-
taking, primarily and principally the necessity of raising a very
large sum of money before it could, in common prudence, be
even set on foot. But this difficulty was unexpectedly over-
come by the munificent help of General Wolff, commandant of
the division of Algiers, who, having at his disposal a considerable
military fund destined for charities among the natives, made it
over to the Archbishop to be used in carrying out his project.
The remainder of the sum required was raised by public sub-
scription ; and the hospital, dedicated to St. Elizabeth, the patron
saint of Madame Wolff, became an accomplished fact.

It was inaugurated on the 5th of February, 1876, with a scene
of picturesque festivity, when Mgr. Lavigerie dispensed hospitality
on a Homeric scale of liberality, not only to a large number of
visitors brought by special train from Algiers and entertained
within doors in European fashion, but also to the Arabs of the
neighbouring tribes. These wild guests assembled in thousands,
and picnicked in the open air, feasting in primitive style on sheep
and oxen roasted whole, suspended above great fires on wooden
poles run through their headless carcases. A thousand Arab
cavaliers executed the " fantasia,'^ their national tournament,
seeming like so many demon horsemen as they wheeled to and
fro in mad career, uttering savage war-cries, flinging spears and
rifles into the air, and catching them as they fell, breaking into
squadrons, re-uniting, chasing, and flying, like clouds of sand
swept along by the whirlwind of the desert. The Frankish
visitors enjoyed this performance, viewed from a safe distance,
more than they did the simulated attack on the train, with which
the same wild horsemen had saluted their arrival in the morning,
and which was represented with a realistic force somewhat trying
to feminine nerves.

It was but a few weeks previous to this joyous celebration
that the Algerian missionaries, hitherto occupied only with these
works among the natives under French rule, had undertaken the
first of the more distant enterprises with which their Order was
destined to be widely associated. Three of their number started
for Timbuctoo, with orders to found there a Christian colony, or
die in the attempt. Pere Duguerry, their Superior, accompanied
them to the confines of Algeria, and last saw them as they rode
off on camel-back into the desert, intoning the Te Deum in

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 153

chorus. Weeks passed without any news of them, and then
vague rumours of their death began to circulate among the
nomad population of the Northern Sahara. Time confirmed
these sinister reports, and their bodies were finally discovered by;
some ostrich hunters, more than thirty days' march from the
coast, on the southern edge of the Sahara, some distance from
the caravan route. They are believed to have been massacred by
the savage Touaregs, or Isghers, who recently annihilated the
French exploring expedition under Colonel Flatters. Yet the
Algerian missionaries at present wandering among these same, or
kindred tribes, in search of a favourable locality in which to
establish themselves, have met with a pacific and even cordial
reception. The attempt to advance in the direction of Timbuctoo,
has, however, for the present been abandoned.

A new field of enterprise has been opened to the Algerian Mis-
sions by an agency unconnected in itself with any religious
objects. In 1877 was founded, under the stimulus supplied by
the narratives of a series of travellers, the International African
Association, consisting of ten States, under the presidency of the
King of the Belgians, for the systematic and combined explora-
tion of the continent. According to the programme of this new
crusade against barbarism, as its founders termed it, its destined
field of operations is bounded on the east and west by the two
seas, on the south by the basin of the Zambesi, and on the north
by the recently conquered Egyptian territory, and the indepen-
dent Soudan. Through this vast and imperfectly explored
region, the Association designs to establish permanent stations of
supply, where travellers can be sheltered, and caravans refitted,
and Ujiji, Nyangwe, and Kabebe, or some other point in the
dominions of the Muata Yanvo, have been designated as among
the points most suitable for the purpose.

It is no longer (writes Mgr. Lavigerie) a matter of isolated explorers,
but of regular expeditions, in which money is not spared any more
than men. Thus, under a vigorous impetus, an uninterrupted chain
of stations is being established from Zanzibar to Lake Tanganyika,
where the Belgian explorers have founded their central establishment
of Karema ; while on the west Stanley is ascending the course of the
Congo, and forming depots along its shores. The day is then not far
distant when the representatives of the International African Associa-
tion, coming from the Atlantic and Indian Oceans, will meet on the
lofty plateaux where the two great rivers of Africa, the Nile and the
Congo, take their rise.

But (as he goes on to say) the Church must have her part in
this work of civilization, and must not let herself be anticipated
ill these new countries by all the other European influences to
which they will soon be thrown open. It was not long before the

154 Catholic Missions in EquaioHal Africa.

death of Pius IX. that Cardinal Franchi, Prefect of the Propaganda,
directed his attention to the labours of the Brussels Conference,
and their probable effect on the future of a country nearly as large
as Europe, and containing a population estimated by some at a
hundred million souls. The heads of all the principal Missions
in Africa were consulted, and were unanimous in recognizing the
greatness of the religious interests at stake, but the difficulty
was to find a body of men sufficiently zealous and trained lor
labour in this new field, who had not already undertaken other
engagements requiring all their energies and resources. This
was the case with all the old-established religious congregations
in Africa, which had each its own sphere of operations and could
not abandon it for a fresh experiment, and the Algerian Missions,
newly-organized, full of fervour, and comparatively free from the
claims of other duties, were the only ones available for the new
undertaking. For, while their numbers had continued steadily
to increase, many of the charges which had been their first care,
had now ceased to provide them with full occupation ; and the
orphanages, in particular, at the lapse of nine or ten years from
their foundation, had nearly fulfilled their function, as the
children of the famine were, as we have seen, being otherwise
provided for.

Thus the priests of the Society were able to accept unhesitat-
ingly the charge of the Missions to Equatorial Africa, as soon as
it was proposed to them ; and in an address to the Holy See
declared their joyful readiness to devote themselves to the cause.
But the Pontiff who had called them to their arduous task was
not destined to speed them on their way. Two of the Algerian
missionaries arrived in Rome in January, 1878, as a deputation
from the Order, to lay their declaration of acceptance at the feet
of Pius IX., and receive his final benediction and instructions ;
but his death intervened before he had signed the decree autho-
rizing the commencement of their task. The fulfilment of the
intentions of his predecessor in this respect was one of the first
acts of the Pontificate of Leo XIII., and the rescript giving effect
to them is dated the 24th of February, four days only after his
accession. The territory confided to the Missions thus created
is identical with that selected as its scene of operations by the
International Association, and extends across the entire width
of the continent of Africa, from ten degrees north to fifteen south
of the line. Four missionary centres, intended later to become
Vicariates Apostolic, have been created ; two on Lakes Nyanza
and Tanganyika ; one at Kabebe, in the territory of the Muata
Yanvo, and one at the northern extremity of the course of the
Congo. Most of the?e stations will occupy the same points as
those selected by the European explorers, whose track across

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Ajrica. 155

Africa the Algerian missionaries will thus precede or follow. In
order that they might be first in the field and anticipate tlie
teachers of any other form of Christianity, it was the special
desire of the Pope that they should start without delay, and
accordingly, on the 25th of March, a month after the signature of
the decree, the little band were on their way to Zanzibar.

They numbered ten, of whom five, P^res Pascal, Deniaud,
Dromaux, Delaunay, and Frere Auger, were destined for the
Mission of Lake Tanganyika ; and an equal number, Peres
Livinhac, Girault, Lourdel, Barbot, and Fr^re Amance, for that
of the Victoria Nyanza. Our readers are doubtless aware that a
special ceremony of adieu is prescribed by the liturgy to celebrate
the departure of missionaries for a distant station. At the close
of the service all present, beginning with the ecclesiastic of highest
dignity, advance to kiss the feet of the new apostles, messengers of
that Gospel of Peace, surely nowhere more needed than in the
torn and bleeding heart of Africa.

The Algerian Missionaries who sailed from Marseilles at the
end of March, landed at Zanzibar on the 29th of April. Then
began those scenes of feverish bustle and anxiety attending the
process of organizing a caravan for the interior, in which the tra-
vellers were aided by the energetic co-operation of Pere
Charmetant, Procureur-General of their Society, come to speed
them with his help and advice on the first stages of their journey.
The whole success of an African expedition depends on the
character of the men chosen to compose it, and especially on the
efficiency of the head-men, whose influence over their subordi-
nates is analogous to that of the officers of a regiment over the
rank and file. The caravan, whether for trade, exploration, or
rehgious colonization, is always constituted in the same way,
and generally comprises two distinct categories of men. The
first are the Wangwana, negroes of Zanzibar, of whom we read
80 much in all narratives of African travel, engaged to form the
armed escort of the party, and termed askaris, from the Arabic
word, aschkar, a soldier. They are a jovial, pleasure-loving
crew, vain and light-hearted, averse to discipline, and liable to
sudden panics and fitful changes of mood. They have, however,
their counterbalancing virtues, and, when headed by a leader who
inspires them with confidence, are capable of prolonged endurance
of toil and suff'ering, and of courageous fidelity to their employer.

The second class are the porters, or pagazis, of the expedition,
generally consisting of Wanyamwezi, natives of the province of
Unyamwezi, lying to the east of the great Lake district. Being
in a lower stage of civilization than the Wangwana, they have
the greater measure of both good and bad qualities implied by
that difference, are wilder and more unmanageable, but, on the

156 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. -

other hand, less enervated by vices and excesses than the more
self-indulged natives of the coast. For this reason they are
superior as porters, as their greater hardihood and exemption
from disease enables them better to bear the continuous strain of
carrying a heavy load through a long march.

In addition to these two classes of men, there are in every
expedition a certain number of kirangozis, or guides, whose
duty it is to head the different sections of the column on the
march, keep order in the ranks, and select the route, and who
may be compared to the non-commissioned officers in a regiment.
They carry lighter loads than the rank and file, and are dis-
tinguished by the fantastic brilliancy of their apparel, by plumed
head-dresses, flowing scarlet robes, and the skins or tails of
animals worn as decorations. Preceded by a noisy drummer-boy,
and led by these barbaric figures, the long serpentine file of an
African caravan forms a sufficiently picturesque spectacle, as
emerging from the reeds or jungle, it winds over open ground to
some village on its road.

But the hiring and selection of his native followers is not
the only care that engages the traveller preparing for an African
expedition. As no form of coin is current in the interior, he
has to take a bulky equivalent in the shape of goods, for the
expenses of his entire force along the way ; and the purchase,
assortment, and classification of his varied stock-in-trade is a task
of some difficulty. Chaos seems come again ; while in a room
strewn with all the litter of a packing-house, with shreds of
matting, fragments of paper, and the wreck of tin boxes and
wooden cases, black figures keep coming and going depositing
the most miscellaneous loads, of which bales of unbleached cotton,
striped and coloured cloths, glass beads of every size and
hue, and coils of brass wire, are the most conspicuous. In the
midst of this scene of confusion, with a Babel of tongues and
clatter of hammers going on all round, and at a temperature of
80° Fahr., each load has to be arranged and numbered, its con-
tents enumerated, and its place in the catalogue carefully
assigned. Such is the task that awaits the traveller at Zanzibar.

The goods most in use are merikani, a strong white cotton,
of American manufacture, as its name implies ; kaniki, a blue
cloth ; and satini, a lighter and more flimsy fabric. These are
reckoned by the doti, a measure of about four yards, and are
used by the natives in such elementary forms of clothing as they
affect.

Beads, manufactured in Venice for the African market, must
be chosen with special reference to the prevailing fashion among
the tribes they are intended for, as each has its own special pre-
dilection. Diff'erent varieties are exported to the opposite coasts

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 157

of Africa, so that finding some of the natives of the interior in
the possession of a particular sort was a suflBcient proof to
Livingstone that he had crossed, so to speak, the watershed
between the two great streams of traffic, and arrived from the
east, at the region whose products are borne to the Atlantic.
The caprices of savage taste are sometimes as fleeting as those of
European fashion, and the lust and youngest African explorer,
Mr. Thomson, tells us in his narrative, how he transported to
the shores of Lake Tanganyika a cargo of a special form of these
glass wares, which his head man Chumah had on his last visit
seen in great request there, but the fancy for which had in the
interval so completely passed away, that the traveller found them
utterly useless.

Brass wire, a somewhat ponderous form of metallic currency,
is also in great vogue among the African fashionables as an
ornament for their persons ; so much so, that in the spirit of the
French proverb, II faut souffrir pour etre belle, they are content
to carry immense loads of it round their necks, arms, or ankles,
with a view to increasing their attractions.

In addition to these ordinary wares, the Fathers had provided
themselves with various ornamental cloths to propitiate the
chiefs ; and Mgr. Lavigerie, with a special view to the taste of
the great potentates Mirambo and Mtesa, had commissioned a
friend in Paris to ransack the bazaars of the Temple for the cast-
off finery of the Second Empire, and lay in a stock of the State
robes of ex-senators and ministers. This was done, and a result
was hoped for as satisfactory as that which had once ensued from
presenting an American Indian Chief with the second-hand
uniform of the beadle of St. Sulpice, which he wore, as his sole
garment, on the occasion of the next solemn festival, and thus
attired took part in the procession, to the great edification of all
beholders.

The organization of the missionary caravan was much more
rapidly accomplished than that of most similar expeditions ; and
the preparations in which months are usually spent were com-
pleted in a few weeks. Three hundred pagazis were engaged at
a hundred francs a head to act as carriers to Unyamwezi, whence
the two Missions were to take separate roads, the one to Lake
Tanganyika, and the other to the Victoria Nyanza. The entire
baggage of the party weighed a hundred quintals, and the
separate loads about 35 kilos, each. When the askaris, or guards,
and all supernumeraries were reckoned, the force numbered five
hundred men.

The Algerian Fathers were much assisted by the co-operation
of the Missionaries of the Holy Ghost at Zanzibar and Baga-
moyo, where their admirable establishments, founded by Pere

158 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

Horner, since dead, form the admiration of all travellers. They
have proceeded on the plan of ransoming children from the slave
dealers, training them to some trade or industry, and establishing
them in rural colonies under their own immediate care. One
of the lay- brothers is an experienced mechanical engineer,
having studied in the most celebrated workshops in Europe, that
of Krupp among others, and the Mission is consequently able to
execute orders for the construction or repairs of machinery in the
best way. In 1873, Sir Bartle Frere, in his official report, spoke
of these establishments in the following terms : — " I should find
it impossible to suggest the slightest improvement in this
Mission in any direction. I shall cite it as a model to be
followed by those who at any time desire to civilize and Chris-
tianize Africa." The Fathers have recently established an inland
station at Mhonda, among the mountains, eleven days' march
from the coast, at a height of a thousand metres above the sea,
where they have been well received by the natives.

It was on the 16th of June, 1878, that the Algerian Mission-
aries took leave of these kind friends and fellow-labourers, and
set out on their long road from Bagamoyo to the Great Lakes. In
addition to their human carriers, they took with them twenty
asses, the only beasts of burden which withstand the fatal efiects
of the tsetse bite. The path taken was the ordinary caravan
route followed by Arab trade with the interior, and by constant
traffic rendered safe for a well -equipped party, unless it should
become entangled in the hostilities frequently going on between
the natives. The greatest annoyance to which travellers through
this part of the country are liable is the constant exaction of
hongo, or tribute, on the part of every petty chief through whose
territory they pass, and their diaries are little else than a
narration of the delays and vexations caused by incessant
negotiations with these grasping savages. On the latter part
of the route a fresh centre of disturbance has of late years been
created in the country by the growing power of Mirambo, 'Hhat
terrible phantom,^' as Stanley calls him, whose name is a bugbear
to travellers and traders. Originally a petty chief of Unyamwezi,
he has rendered himself formidable by gathering around him all
the elements of disorder and violence so prevalent in African
society ; and his predatory bands, known as Ruga-Rugas, are
dreaded alike by foreigners and natives. Their raids keep the
country in a ferment, and some of their light skirmishers are
constantly lying in wait in the jungles to pick up stragglers from
the caravans. The Arabs are, however, the objects of his special
enmity, and he is in general more favourably disposed to
Europeans.

The first marches of the missionary caravan lay through the

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 159

rlcli but unwholesome lowlands that line the coast, where the
damp soil, soaked with moisture after the masika, or rainy
season, is a hot-bed of fever, exhaling poisonous miasma. All
the travellers suffered more or less from the effects of the
climate, which they tried to counteract by powerful doses of
quinine and other remedies. The landscape displayed the glories
of African vegetation, and the dense foliage of the forests sheltered
tropical birds, and was the home of black and white monkeys,
which bounded chattering from tree to tree. The road the
travellers followed is but a narrow track along which the column
wound in single file, sometimes plunging through matted under-
wood and dense cane-brakes, sometimes with the loads carried by
the men just showing above a sea of rank tall grass, waving as
high as their heads on either side. Wherever this path forked,
the leaders of the party broke off a branch and laid it across
the opening of the false turn as a signal to those who came
after to avoid it. Rivers and streams had to be crossed either on
the slippery trunk of a tree felled so as rudely to bridge them
over, or by wading through the current where a practicable ford
occurred. The first trifling misadventure in the camp occurred
on June 18, and is narrated in the diary of the missionaries,
published serially in Les Missions Catholiques.

Just as we were sitting down to dinner under a tree, a few steps
away from the camp, all the men of our caravan, askaris and pagazis,
rushed to arms, uttering furious cries. We ran to the scene of tumult
and found that the camp had caught fire, and that the conflagration
was rapidly approaching our baggage. Our first care was to extinguish
it, which we did, with the aid of the soldiers, but the shouts and
tumult continued. The pagazis cocked their guns, uttering wild
shrieks and threatening to fire on the soldiers. The fight was then
between the Wangwana askaris and the Wanyamwezi pagazis. At
last, by dint of preaching peace, and desiring weapons to be laid aside,
we succeeded in restoring order. We -then learned the cause of all
this disturbance. An askari had lost the stopper of his powder flask,
a pagazi had picked it up and kept it. The theft discovered, the two
men had come to blows, and the contagion of their wrath and fury
had soon spread to the entire caravan. Happily the incident had no
serious consequences.

The ordinary day^s march of ah African expedition is neces-
sarily short, as it represents only a portion of the day's work per-
formed by the men. It is generally got over very early in the
morning, beginning at five o'clock, so that the halting place is
reached by ten or eleven, before the sun has attained its full
power. The preparations for encamping then commence, fire-
wood and water have to be procured, and the men proceed to con-
struct huts for themselves of an umbrella-shaped frame-work of

160 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

boughs, thatched with bundles of lon^ grass fastened together
at the top. Others meantime are busied in lighting the fires, in
cooking, or in setting up the tents of the travellers, and other-
wise attending to their comfort. It is an extraordinary instance
of the physical endurance of the men, that frequently on arriving
at an encampment, apparently completely exhausted by a long
march, they will, after a short rest, spring up, and begin one
of their wild and furious dances, spending the night in a perfect
frenzy of movement instead of sleeping off the fatigues of the

Sometimes in the evening the Kirangozis (guides) address
orations to their men in the style of that quoted by Stanley, in
" How I found Livingstone/^

" Hearken, Kirangozis ! Lend ear, O Sons of the Wanyamwezi !
The journey is for to-morrow. The path is crooked, the path is bad.
There are jungles where more than one man will be concealed. The
Wagogo strike the pagazis with their lances ; they cut the throats of
those who carry stuff and beads. The Wagogo have come to our
camp ; they have seen our riches ; this evening they will go to hide
in the jungle. Be on your guard, O Wanyamwezi! Keep close
together ; do not delay ; do not linger behind. Kirangozis, march
slowly, so that the weak, the children, the sick, may be with the
strong. Rest twice on the road. These are the words of the master.
Have you heard them. Sons of the Wanyamwezi ?"

A unanimous cry replies in the affirmative.

" Do you understand them ?"

Fresh affirmative cries.

" It is well." Night falls, and the orator retires into his hut.

The missionaries had to encounter more than one threatened
mutiny in their camp, the men demanding increased pay or
other indulgences, and on one of these occasions eight of the
soldiers were dismissed and sent back to the coast. The ineffi-
ciency of their caravan leader threw the task of keeping order
among the mixed and barbarous multitude of their followers
principally on the Fathers, and the incompatibility of this office,
entailing the necessity of energetic remonstrances and threats,
with the dignity of their priestly character, suggested the idea,
since carried out, of requesting ex-Papal Zouaves to accompany
future missionary caravans, in order to enforce military discipline
in their ranks.

On Sundays the caravan was halted, and the missionaries pre-
pared to celebrate Mass, with all the pomp and solemnity possible
under the circumstances. In the principal tent an altar was
erected, decorated with ornaments bestowed by Mgr. Lavigerie
and sundry religious societies, while above it hung two banners
embroidered by the Carmelite Nuns of Cite Bugeaud, near

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 161

Algiers. In this little sanctuary in the wilderness, High Mass
was chanted by the Fathers, in sight of their dark-skinned
heathen followers, who watched through the open door of the
tent, in wonder not untinctured with superstitious awe, the cere-
mony which they had been told was the white man^s most
solemn rite of prayer.

On arrival in camp on the 5th of Jul}^, a soldier called Mabruki,
failed to answer to the roll-call, and two of his comrades were
sent back in search of him : he had carried off with him a whole
piece of merikani and some articles belonging to the other
soldiers, and was found in a village on the route, whence he was
ignominiously brought back prisoner by the search party. His
comrades tried him by a sort of drum-head court-martial, dis-
missed him from their ranks, and, after administering a flogging,
sent him on his way back to the coast.

The party were now entering a wilder and more mountainous
country, infested by wild animals, as described in the journal of
July 6.

We passed through the village of Kikoka, now completely abandoned
on account of the neighbourhood of lions. We were close to a camp
where five or six members of a caravan had been devoured by these
animals barely a month before.

Lions are one of the dangers of the journey from Zanzibar to the
Great Lakes. They sometimes join together in packs of six or eight
to hunt game. Some animals show fight against them successfully.*
Lions never venture to attack the adult elephant, and even fly before
the buffalo, unless they are more than two to one. In general they
do not attack caravans, and never in the day-time. At most, a hungry
lion may spring upon and carry off a straggler while passing through
the brakes and jungles. But it is otherwise at night. When the
lions scent the caravan from afar, particularly if it contain goats
or beasts of burden, they approach and announce their vicinity by
terrific roars. Nevertheless, in a well-enclosed camp there is no
danger ; the lions never attempt to clear the obstacles, and marskmen
from behind the palisades can pick them off with almost unfailing
aim. There is danger only when the camp is not completely enclosed,
or when those inside go out to attack them. Then, if the lions are
in force, they seldom fail to make some victims. This, no doubt, was
what had happened to the caravan that had preceded us at Kikoka.

Some considerable streams intersected this part of the route,
and as the rude tree-trunk bridges by which they were crossed
afforded no footing to the asses, the only way found practicable
for getting these animals across was to fasten a long rope round

* These details agree with those given by the German explorer, Dr.
Holub, in his recent book, " Seven Years in South Africa."
VOL. VI.— .NO. I. [Third Series.] u

162 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

their necks^ by which ten men standing on the opposite shore
hauled them by main force through the current. This process,
which lasted some hours, had to be frequently repeated during
the journey.

At intervals along the road the caravan came upon traces of
the unsuccessful attempt made by the English missionaries of
Ujiji to introduce transport by oxen into this part of Africa, in
the shape of waggons abandoned by their owners in the villages
they passed through, as the draught beasts had gradually suc-
cumbed to tsetse bite, fatigue, or the effects of feeding on unwhole-
some grasses. Approaching the village of Mpuapua on the 26th
of July, they saw the English flag flying over a building w^hich
proved to be the residence of the Protestant missionaries perma-
nently stationed there. They exchanged visits and other
courtesies with these gentlemen, who charged themselves with
the conveyance of their letters to Zanzibar.

A short time after leaving this station, the caravan had its first
painful experience of a tirikeza, or forced march, across a parched
and waterless desert, where rest can only be purchased at the
price of endurance of thirst. Starting at six in the morning,
they entered on a sandy plain, twelve leagues in breadth, which
must be crossed in eighteen hours. At mid-day a short halt was
made, after which they pressed on again till seven in the evening.
Overpowered with fatigue, all lay down to sleep in the open air,
round large fires, for neither huts nor tents were set up, and at
five in the morning they had to start again, reaching at nine the
inhabited country where they stopped for two days^ rest.

They had now crossed the frontier of Ugogo, a mountainous
plateau, forming the water-shed between the Indian Ocean and
the Great Lakes. Hitherto the missionaries had met with no
annoyance from the natives, and had not had to pay hongo, or
tribute, once since leaving the coast. They were now to have
a difierent experience, and found themselves surrounded at every
moment by swarms of filthy and unsavoury savages, whom
even the exertions of the soldiers could not succeed in banishing
from the camp. Every movement of the wasunga, or white men,
was watched with intense curiosity, but in a spirit of ridicule
instead of admiration. Reeking with rancid butter, and clad
only in a scrap of greasy cotton or sheep-skin, the Wagogo are
anything but pleasant neighbours at close quarters; and a crowd
of them in a small tent, jabbering and making fixces at every-
thing they saw, was an infliction that might gladly have been
dispensed with. They enlarge the lobes of their ears by inserting
pegs into them, to which they attach various articles of use or
ornament, and are thus provided with a substitute for a pocket, a
convenience they are precluded from the use of by the scantiness

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 163

of their apparel. In some cases this portion of the ear is so
elongated by the weights attached to it as to reach to the
shoulder. Provisions were cheap in Ugogo, ten egg^ being
given in exchange for a single pin; but, on the other hand, the
travellers had now to submit to a series of exorbitant demands
on the part of every village potentate whose territory they passed.
These extortions amounted to hundreds of yards of cotton, with
other goods in proportion, and were everywhere the subject of
"wearisome negotiations, and the cause of interminable delays.
Thus it was twenty-one days before the caravan cleared this
notorious province, lightened, in its passage, of nearly all the
goods brought from the coast.

But the Fathers had to deplore, in Ugogo, a greater loss than
that of their material resources, for it was here that the first
•serious misfortune overtook the little band, in the death of one
of its most devoted members. Pere Pascal, the destined Superior
of the Mission of Lake Tanganyika, had suffered from slight
attacks of fever, at intervals since leaving the coast, but his
-cheerful spirit and courage had sustained him in battling against
the malady. As too often happens, however, in these malarious
illnesses, the successive attacks increased instead of diminishing
in intensity, and from the 14th of August he became very ill,
jpassing restless nights with continual high fever. Nevertheless,
when the caravan was starting on the morning of the 17th,
though scarcely able to stand, and delirious at intervals, he
insisted on mounting his ass, so as to leave the litter to one of
his sick comrades. This was his last march ; he grew so rapidly
worse at the next halting-place that he could no longer be moved,
and died at three in the afternoon of the 19th, without any
appearance of suffering towards the close. His companions
consoled themselves by recalling his many virtues, particularly
the humility and charity for which he had been specially
remarkable. On one occasion, in Algeria, he picked up a little
Arab boy, abandoned by his parents to die, and covered with
sores from head to foot, carried him home, and nursed him with
the greatest tenderness. The child was beyond cure, but the
good Father's care soothed his last hours, and the example of
his charity won the heart of his charge to Christianity before he
died.

Lest a death in the camp should be made the pretext for
further exactions, the Fathers determined to transport the
remains of Pere Pascal by night, beyond the inhospitable frontier
of Ugogo, which was now close at hand. At midnight then,
ifter assembling for a last prayer of adieu, a little funeral band
Parted in the darkness to seek a suitable place of sepulture. They
found it in the great forest skirting the confines of Ugogo, and,

M 2>

1 64( Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

penetrating for about seven or eight kilometres into its depths,
buried the remains of their valued companion in that inaccessible
tropical wilderness_, marking the spot with a small wooden cross.

The travellers were now approaching the end of the first stage
of their journey, where, in IJnyanyembe, the roads to Lakes Vic-
toria and Tanganyika divide, and the Missions destined for their
respective sliores would have to part company. They entered
this province on the 12th of September, but were detained there
many months, from the necessity of waiting for fresh supplies,
those they had brought with them having been exhausted by the
exactions of Ugogo. The contract, too, with the pagazis who
had accompanied them from the coast, expired here, and these
men were now back in their native country, Unyamwezi, the
Land of the Moon, of which Unyanyembe, the Land of Hoes,
is but a province. At the meeting point of the two caravan
routes has sprung up the settlement of Tabora, which, like most
of the localities in Equatorial Africa whose names have become
familiar to the European reader, such as Ujiji and Nyangwe, are
not native towns, but Arab colonies. Traders of that nation
from the coast have gradually settled at these points in the
interior, either for increased facilities of commerce, or because
social disabilities, such as debt or crime, have rendered it desirable
for them to be out of reach of civilization. Most of these immi-
grants have prospered, and some possess hundreds of slaves, flocks,
herds, and other belongings. They have built roomy flat-roofed
houses surrounded by the huts of their dependents, the w^hole
generally enclosed by a strong stockade. Even in Stanley's time
there were sixty or seventy such stockades in Tabora, and the
number has probably increased since. Although these Arab settlers
introduced a certain type of civilization, their morality is not
calculated to raise the lowest African standard, and they are
always inimical to Christianity, as a menace to the slave trade,
one of their principal sources of profit.

Their presence at Tabora, however, was of use to the mission-
aries, as it enabled them to negotiate a loan and purchase goods
to start for their further journey. It was not till the 12th of
November that the caravan for Uganda, with Pere Livinhac at
its head, was able to set out once more, while the Tanganyika
Mission, in which Pere Deniaud had succeeded Pere Pascal as
Superior, was delayed, by the difficulty of obtaining fresh porters,
until the 3rd of December. After a march, diversified only by the
usual accidents of the way, by varieties of weather and land-
scape, by the more or less friendly dispositions of the Sultans
through whose territory they passed, and their several degrees of
rapacity in the matter of hongo, as well as by frequent alarms and
scares of raids from the followers of Mirambo, the first party on

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 165

the 30th of December arrived at last in sight of their goal, and
saw the grey Nyanza show like a film of gossamer against the
softly veiled horizon. Calm and smiling in the equatorial sun-
shine that gilded its green shores, there lay the mysterious lake
from which flows the mysterious river, the clue to so many
enigmas, the key to the speculation of ages, the unveiled secret
so long shrouded in the heart of Africa.

In three hours the missionaries were at Kaduma, a little village
of scattered huts under the shade of clusters of trees by the
shore of the lake. Some of them were accommodated in a hut,
where still lay, covered with dust, various trifles, the relics of its
last occupant, an English missionary of the name of Smith, who
had died there some time before. The other Fathers were lodged
under their tent. A fresh series of delays was in store for them
before they could reach Uganda, still separated from them by the
greatest diameter of the lake; and it was finally decided to send
Pere Lourdel, the best Arabic scholar of the party, with the lay-
brother, to Mtesa's court, to prepare the way for the
others, and beg him to send canoes to fetch them. On
the 19th of January, 1879, the two envoys accordingly
set forth in a crazy boat, which they themselves had to
patch up, ibr their long coasting voyage round the lake.
It lasted nearly a month, but was accomplished without accident,
and at last, on the 17th of February, 1879, the first of the
Algerian missionaries was face to face with the great potentate of
Equatorial Africa. Mtesa was ill at this time, and almost con-
stantly lying down, but he received the missionaries graciously, as
he does all European strangers. There were five Protestant
missionaries already at his capital, and there was at first some
difficulty in their relations with the French priests, but they
became afterwards very friendly with them. Mtesa assigned a
lodging to Pere Lourdel, sending him daily supplies of food, as is
his custom with strangers visiting his dominions, and despatched
immediately twenty canoes, under the guidance of Fr^re Amance,
to bring the rest of the party to Rubaga.

They meantime had a weary time of waiting at Kaduma, in
anxious uncertainty as to their future fate. The monotony of
their lives was broken by the arrival, on the 14th of February, of
two Englishmen on their way to join the Mission of Uganda.
They exchanged visits with the Fathers, and the negroes were
much astonished to hear the Wasunga, or white men, speaking
to each other in Kiswaheli, the universal medium of communica-
tion throughout Equatorial Africa, where it plays the same part
that French does on the continent of Europe. Mr. Maclvay, the
head of the Mission of Uganda, arrived soon after with a flotilla
of boats to convey the new recruits to their destination, but

166 Gatliolic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

there was no sign of any means of transport for the Algerian
Fathers.

They saw the people of Kaduma hold a dancing-festival in
honour of the new moon, and were present at the wedding of the
chiePs son^ in honour of which Pere Barbot manufactured him a
necklace of various coloured Leads, to his great delight.

They suffered considerable annoyance from the theft by some
of their soldiers of the gorgeous robes intended as a propitiatory
offering to the King of Uganda; but they were fortunately
recovered by the Arab Governor of Tabora, who sent them to
their rightful owners by a caravan from Unyanyembe, which
reached Kaduma on the 20th of April. A still more agreeable
surprise was in store for them, in the shape of a packet of letters
from Europe, delivered by the same agency, and containing for
the poor exiles good news from home.

At last, on Whitsun eve, the 31st of May, the long-desired
flotilla appeared on the horizon, and a few days later the welcome
event of the embarkation of the party took place. The discipline
of Mtesa's men was so excellent that nothing was stolen from
their baggage on the way ; and on the 19th of June, exactly a year
after they had left Bagamoyo, they landed in Uganda on the
north-western shore of the Victoria Nyanza. The king was
favourably disposed towards them, and the well-chosen presents of
Mgr. Lavigerie tended to confirm him in his gracious mood.
The presence of so many rival missionaries in his capital had
given him an opportunity for indulging his favourite passion for
theology, and he had already, on Monday, the 8th of June, presided
at a triple conference, in which the representatives of Protest-
antism, Catholicity, and Islamism disputed before him on the
merits of their respective creeds. A strange and interesting
scene must have been the dark interior of that grass-thatched
hall in the heart of Equatorial Africa, where the fierce-eyed
pagan monarch, master of the future of half a continent, sat as
umpire between the champions of three rival religions competing
for his acceptance and support.

The balance turned for the moment in favour of Catholicity,
for Pere Lourdel, by his cure of Mtesa from a very serious illness,
had gained some influence over his mind. The intrigues of the
Arabs contributed to the same end ; for, dreading beyond all
things the hostility of England to the slave trade, they excited
the king^s jealous susceptibility against the missionaries of that
nation by insinuating that they had in view the eventual
annexation of his dominions. Nor was the wily African
without an ulterior object in the favour he showed the new
arrivals at bis court, for he shortly began to sound them on the
possibility of a French alliance with Uganda, the powerful

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 167

protection of some European state being one of the favourite
dreams of his uninstructed but imaginative mind.

It was about six months after the arrival of the mis-
sionaries, that a sudden and inexplicable reaction in E-ubaga,
the capital of Uganda, seemed for a time to threaten a serious
persecution of the Christian teachers, but in an equally unex-
phiined fashion this momentary change of mood has again passed
away without producing any effect. Emin Bey, Governor of the
Egyptian Equatorial Provinces, communicated to Petermann's
Miitheilungcfi, of November, 1880, the contents of a letter
recently received by him from Uganda, describing a great council
held by the king on the 23rd of December previous, where it was
resolved to prohibit the teaching of the French and English
missionaries alike, and to decree the penalty of death "against
any native receiving instruction from them. Mahometanism
was also condemned, and all good subjects were recommended to
adhere to the belief of their fathers. It was unanimously
declared that no teaching was required in Uganda, the only
improvement desirable being " that guns, powder, and per-
cussion caps, should be as plentiful as grass.''"' These resolutions
were promulgated amid public rejoicings, with firing of guns
and general acclamations, yet they have ever since remained a
dead letter. The most recent letters from the Algerian mis-
sionaries in Rubaga, published in Les Missions Gatholiques, of
May 20, 1881, help perhaps to explain this inconsistency by
showing us that politics in Uganda are not quite so simple as
they at first sight appear. They tell us that Mtesa, despite his
seemingly absolute power, is really controlled and hampered by
the great chiefs who form his court and lead his armies. Among
these formidable vassals there is evidently a conservative party
opposed to innovation and vehemently inimical to European
influence, for we are told that they go so far as to threaten the
Kabaka, bidding him to go away with his white men, while they
will raise one of his children to the throne. The pressure of this
section of his chiefs was evidently sufficiently strong to force
the acceptance of the anti-Christian decree on the king, but not
as yet to compel its execution. The existence of such a party,
however, shows one of the dangers to which the missionaries
and their converts may at any moment become liable by a
sudden change in the political situation of the country.

On the other hand, the Algerian Fathers see in the feudal
organization of Uganda a prospect of facilities for their teaching.
The great nobles holding the government of their respective pro-
vinces immediately of the king, transmit again their authority to
a number of sub-chiefs or lesser vassals ruling over smaller
districts, and bound to follow their superior's standard in the

168 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa,

field, each with his contingent of armed retainers. It is con-
jectured that this aristocratic class, including of course the king
of Uganda, is descended from the Abyssinian Christians who came
as conquerors at some remote epoch to the shore of the great
Nyanza, and brought there the comparative civilization whose
tradition still remains. It is through these powerful nobles,
with their hereditary superiority to the ordinary negro, that the
missionaries hope gradually to extend their influence in the
country and reach the lowest orders, the slaves, or ivadou, grouped
in villages on the great estates.

As regards the material aspects of the Mission, the King pre-
sented the Fathers immediately with a piece of land, and sent
workmen to build a house on it, constructed, like all the native
dwellings, of reeds and grass. Strange visitors to the country,
being considered as royal guests, are supplied daily with pro-
visions. The banana furnishes almost the entire food of the
population, and is cooked in various ways ; plucked green, and
wrapped in its own leaves, it is steamed and eaten as a vegetable,
or ground after being dried, is used as flour. A sweet fermented
drink called raaramha, is made from its juice, and a similar
beverage, merissa, is extracted from the plantain. The prin-
cipal intoxicant, however, used in Uganda as in other parts of
Africa, is pomhe, a species of beer brewed from millet or other
grain.

Mtesa^s keen intelligence does not prevent him from being a
slave to superstition ; he trembles before the chief sorcerer, and
worships fetishes and other idols. On the other hand he asked
the Fathers for a catechism in Kiswaheliy and seems capable of
reasoning logically on the truths it contains. He asked Pere
Lourdel one day if it were true, as Mr. Mackay had informed
him, that in France baptism was administered to sheep and oxen,
thinking the assertion so ridiculous that he added he thought
the Protestant missionary must be mad to make it. Pere
Lourdel charitably preferred to conclude that Mtesa had mis-
understood him.

On Easter eve, the 27th of March, 1880, the Algerian Fathers
reaped the first fruits of their labours, in the baptism of four
native catechumens, and on the following Whitsun eve. May
15th, an equal number of converts was received into the
Church. The most interesting of these was a young soldier
named Foulce, eighteen years of age, son of the great chief or
tributary king of Usoga, called Kahaha ana Massanga (king of
the elephant tusks), from the quantity of ivory he furnishes to
his suzerain. His son^s conversion originated in the missionaries'
cure of a very bad injury to his hand, averting the amputation
of a finger, which, according to the code of the country, would

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa, 169

have entailed degradation from the caste of the nobility to that
of the slaves. He had been violently prejudiced against the
Christians by the Mussulmans^ whose teaching he had previously
sought, but without being satisfied by it^ and a sudden enlighten-
ment of his mind seemed to urge him to demand baptism and
instruction. The difficulties were placed before him — the possi-
bility of persecution^ the renunciation of polygamy; but he
declared he had weighed them well, and was prepared for all
sacrifices. His father, though still a Pagan, favours and pro-
tects the missionaries in every way.

Mtesa, though generally reluctant to allow strangers to settle
anywhere save in his capital, was prevailed upon by Pere
Livinhac to allow the missionaries of the second caravan, which
reached Lake Nyanza in April, 1880, to establish themselves in
a tributary province of Uganda called Uwya, recommending
them to the authorities there as his I'riends. They have thus
two stations in this region, with fair prospects of success under
the shadow of his powerful protection.

The Tanganyika branch of the expedition is differently circum-
stanced, as there is in their district no one chief with paramount
authority at all comparable to that of Mtesa on the Nyanza.
Having started from Tabora nearly a month later than their
<;ompanions (on the 3rd of December, 1878), they sighted Lake
Tanganyika on the 24th of January following, after a march
through a country where tribute was demanded in the name of
Mirambo, and where charred huts and devastated fields bore
•eloquent testimony to the destructive power of the great brigand
chief. Ujiji, a long straggling Arab settlement by the shore,
its low, fiat-roo(ed houses scattered amonfj- maize fields and
banana groves, with here and there a stately oil or cocoa-palm
tossing aloft its plumy crown, was their first abode.

Here letters from Seyd Barghash, Sultan of Zanzibar, to
Muini-Heri, the Arab governor, secured them the protection of the
authorities, and having had assigned to them as their residence the
same house occupied by Mr. Stanley during his visit, they
proceeded to instal themselves in it, to have some necessary
repairs executed, and to fit up a room as a little chapel. They
directed their attention meantime to fratherin<x information as to
the neighbouring country, and learned that while the districts
south of the lake were completely depopulated by the ravages of
Mirambo's outlaws, the Ruga-Rugas, there was a healthy and
populous region to the north, where a promising opening might
be found for a station. Kabebe, the capital of the Muata Yanvo,
one of the points already selected for missionary occupation, was
described by Hassan, secretary to Muini-Heri, who had visited
it, as distant five months^ journey from Ujiji, and inhabited by

170 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

an amiable but savage population ; the latter epithet being-
interpreted by the Fathers to mean that there were no Arabs
amongst them.

From Mr. Hore, agent for the English Church Missionary
Society at Ujiji, the Algerian Fathers received all possible
kindness and assistance ; and, with the single exception of Mr.
Mackay at Uganda, who showed a spirit of hostility towards
them, they bear testimony to the friendly dispositions manifested
by the English missionaiies wherever they came in contact with
them.

Though all real authority in Ujiji is vested in the Arab gover-
nor, there is also a titular native sultan, who lives at some dis«
tance from the shore, as his gods have forbidden him to look upon
the sea (Lake Tanganyika). This is one of many curious native
superstitions connected with the lake, several of which, collected
by Mr. Stanley, embody traditions of its origin in a sudden
catastrophe submerging an inhabited country. A stupendous
water-filled chasm in the mountain system of Equatorial Africa,
Lake Tanganyika has long offered problems to science, which the
recent explorations of Mr. Thomson seem to have at last answered
satisfactorily. The cause of the mysterious tide, under the
influence of which it was seen to wax and wane through cycles
of years, and the moot point of the escape of its waters into the
Congo, through the marshy inlet known as the Lukuga Creek,
had been, as our readers may remember, a subject of controversy
between such distinguished explorers as Commander Cameron
and Mr. Stanley. On the latter point, indeed, the careful survey
made by the American traveller, in combination with the con-
tinued rise of the waters of the lake, was, as to the actual state
of things then existing, conclusive in the negative. He, how-
ever, hazarded the bold conjecture, since proved correct, that
this was but a temporary phase of the lake, and that the current
of its out-flow, which had once run through the then stagnant
and obstructed channel of the Lukuga, would do so again, as
soon as the accumulation of water was sufiicient to clear away
the obstructions choking its mouth. This was what in point of
fact occurred in the summer of 1879, when the lake suddenly
burst through these impediments, scoured out its former channel,
and discharged through it a volume of water sufficient to cause
an inundation on the Congo, sweeping away trees and villages
below its junction with that river.

Mr. Thomson believes this out-flow, which had sensibly
diminished in the interval between his first and second visits, to
be only periodical, and dependent on the amount of rainfall
received by the lake, which is so closely hemmed in by high
mountains as to drain a very limited district in proportion to its

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 171

vast area, and in exceptionally dry seasons to give off in evapora-
tion as much as it receives. The rapid accumulation of soil and
vegetation at the mouth of the Lukuga then forces up the level
of the water, until after a series of wet years it breaks through
the barrier once more. How this natural phenomenon was used
to excite superstitious animosity to the French missionaries we
shall see a little farther on.

After a voyage of exploration undertaken by Pere Deniaud to
select a favourable site for the Mission, Ujiji being unfitted for it
both from its unhealthy situation and its subjection to Arab rule,
Ruraongue, in Urundi, some distance to the north, was finally
decided on, and thither the Fathers migrated in June, 1879.
They thus describe their situation.

Urundi presents one great advantage — it is healthier than Ujiji.
There are tolerably high hills and mountains, and we have the air of"
the lake, which is very fresh. I am now completely recovered from
the fatigues of the journey, and for more than a month have had no
fever.

It is a pity that I have not the gift of poetry to describe our station.
I write to you under the shade of a tufted tree on the slope of a hill,
fifty metres from the shore. Before us spread the peaceful waters of
Tanganyika with a crowd of fishing boats. Farther away we can
distinguish through a light haze the point of the great island of
Muzima, and even the mountains of the opposite shore. To right and
left, in every direction, extend well-cultivated fields of manioc,
interspersed with bananas and oil palms ; in the distance in our rear
are lofty mountains with dwellings at their feet, but uninhabited, and
often bare even to their lower slopes ; the heat moderate, imder 3G'
degrees within doors, and 24 to 25 without, thanks to a breeze from
the lake.

The country is described as well cultivated, producing in
abundance manioc, bananas, sweet potatoes, and beans. The
construction of the Mission House \vent on apace.

Our house, or rather cabin, is completed; but how poor is our
workmanship. It has but produced a shed, walled and thatched with
straw, with one side left open to admit air and light. This side, which
is 25 metres in length, is closed at night by means of mats, which are
lifted by day. The natives come from long distances, showing great
admiration, and remaining long in contemplation of this monument of
architecture. We have goats and sheep, and shall soon have cows. We
are turning up the ground; and I, with a daring but inexperienced hand,
am sowing large tracts with wheat and corn. Corn is only cultivated
by two Arabs at Ujiji, and sold at a price which forbids its purchase,
except for seed, and the use of the altar. The Arabs only sow their
wheat at the approach of the dry season, and are obliged to irrigate it
at great cost of labour. We have, therefore, tried another system.

172 CatJwlic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

But an object of much greater interest than our farming is the care
of our ransomed children, and we have been fortunate in beginning
our Mission with them. They are very promising, are most docile to
all our desires, and have no serious faults. One danger is their
running away, as happened in the case of a man and boy without any
reason whatever.

But trouble came upon the little colony thus cheerfully toiling
in the wilderness. In the month of December, 1879, their house
was totally destroyed by a hurricane^ and when they were about
rebuilding it, the Sultan forbade the work and desired them to
leave the country. Pere Deniaud, who was then at Ujiji,
applied to Muini Heri, the effective ruler of the whole district, and
he sent his nephew, Bana-Mkombe, with the Superior, as an envoy
to the Sultan. The latter, when asked the motive of his change
of conduct, explained that he had been told by the Wajiji that the
white men were sorcerers in possession of fatal poisons, and that
they would drain off the lake through the Lukuga, by throwing
medicines on the water, but that he had desired them to be
expelled without the smallest injury to their persons or property.

Bana-Mkombd had no difficulty in refuting these reports,
which doubtless arose from the sudden flushing of the Lukuga
channel in the manner above described, coincidently with the
arrival of the Fathers. They were finally re-established on a
more permanent footing, to the great joy of the natives, who
considered them thenceforward as their friends, and executed a
splendid war-dance in their honour.

Pere Deniaud had on his way opened negotiations for the
establishment of a second missionary station in the province of
Massanze, farther south, and promised the Sultan of that country
to send him white men without delay.

But for these new operations reinforcements for the little
missionary staff were required, and a second caravan was already
on its way to join them, having started from Algiers in June,
1879. It was accompanied by six ex-Zouaves as lay-auxiliaries,
according to the suggestion made by one of the first missionaricF.
Of the total of eighteen of which this fresh expedition consisted,
only ten survived to reach their fellow-workmen at the Great
Lakes, eight having died on the road — one, a lay-brother, mortally
wounded in a combat with the Buga-Rugas.

A third, caravan, numbering fifteen missionaries, started last
November to follow in their footsteps, and on the 8th of March,
1881, were establishing themselves at Mdaburu, about half-way
from Lake Tanganyika to the sea. The Society of Algerian
Missionaries has, in a word, in two years and a half, sent forty-
three missionaries into Equatorial Africa, a number representing
heroic efforts on the part of the little fraternity, but lamentably

Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa. 173

insufficient in comparison with the vast field to be reaped. The
districts of Lake Tanganyika, and the Victoria Nyanza have
already been created Pro-Vicariates Apostolic, and it is designed
to establish two new missionary centres, one in the territory of
the Muata Yanvo, accessible from Ujiji, and another on the
Northern Upper Congo, to be reached from the West Coast.

The reader who has followed the details of such a series of
journeyings as we have essayed to describe, will scarcely require
to be told of the immense cost involved in them, and will receive
without surprise Mgr. Lavigerie^s statistics on the subject.
Every missionary established in the centre of Africa represents,
he tells us, an outlay of thirty thousand francs, and within the
last three years, on the mere foundation and creation of these
missions, a sum of eight hundred thousand francs has been
expended. The Protestant Missions are, indeed, still more costly,
as they dispose of five millions sterling a year, and their liberal
outlay at all stages of the journey was found by the Algerian
Fathers to have largely increased the cost of travelling by the
same road. Fortunately, the charity of Christendom is never
exhausted in such a cause, but all its efforts are required to carry
out so gigantic an enterprise.

It would seem that Mgr. Lavigerie^s efforts for the evangeliza-
tion of Africa were inspired equally by zeal for the spread of
Gospel truth, and by horror at the cruelties of the slave-trade,
some of the victims of which were occasionally met with in
Algiers, and against whose iniquities he makes eloquent protest.
He dwells at length on the revolting miseries inflicted on the
slave caravans, and goes on to say : —

Amongst the young negroes torn by our efforts from these infernal
tortures, there are some who for long periods afterwards awake every
night uttering the most horrible cries. They see again in hideous
nightmares the atrocious scenes they have gone through.

Four hundred thousand negroes are annually the victims of
this scourge, and it is sometimes said that if the traveller follow-
ing in its habitual track were to lose all other reckoning, he
would find sufficient guide-posts to mark the path in the shape
of the human bones blanching in decay.

The loyal exertions of Seyd Barghash have almost annihilated
the export slave-trade from the East Coast, but for its continuance
in the interior let the two following pictures from Mr. Thomson^s
pages speak : —

Half-way up the ascent a sad spectable met our eyes — a chained
gang of women and children. They were descending the rocks
with the utmost ditficnlty, and picking their steps with great care,
as, from the manner in which they were chained together, the fall of

174 Catholic Missions in Equatorial Africa.

one meant, not only the fall of many others, but probably actual
strangulation or dislocation of the neck. The women, though thus
chained with iron by the neck, were many of them carrying their
children on their backs, besides heavy loads on their heads. Their
faces and general appearance told of starvation and utmost hardship,
and their naked bodies spoke with ghastly eloquence of the flesh-
cutting-lash. Their dall despairing gaze expressed the loss of all hope
of either life or liberty, and they looked like a band marching to the
grave. Even the sight of an Englishman raised no hope in them ; for
unfortunately the white man has more the character of a ghoul than
of a liberator of slaves in the far interior.

Saddest sight of all was that of a string of little children, torn from
their home and playmates, wearily following the gang with bleeding,
blistered feet, reduced to perfect skeletons by starvation, looking up
with a piteous eye, as if they beseeched us to kill them. It was out of
my power to attempt releasing them. The most I could do was to stop
them, and give the little things the supply of beans and ground-nuts
I usually carried in my pocket.

At a later stage of his journey he came upon another of these
miserable spectacles.

Camped at Mtowa, we found a huge caravan of ivory and slaves
from Manyema, awaiting, like ourselves, means of transport across lake
(Tanganyika). There were about 1,000 slaves, all in the most miser-
able condition, living on roots and grasses, or whatever refuse and
" garbage " they could pick up. The sight of these poor creatures was
of the most painful character. They were moving about like skeletons
covered Avith parchment, through which every bone in the body

might be traced We learned that they had had a frightful march,

during which two-thirds fell victims to famine, murder, and disease, so
that out of about 3,000 slaves who started from Manyema only 1,000

reached Mtowa The poor wretches were carrying ivory to Ujiji

and Unyanyembe, to be there disposed of, along with themselves, for
stores to be taken back to Nyangwe.

Yet the writer describes the Arabs conducting these caravans
as kindly and humane men in all other relations of life — surely
the strongest proof of the brutalizing effect of such traffic on all
engaged in it.

One might have expected that the sight of such scenes would
have predisposed the youthful traveller to take a favourable view
of the conduct of men whose very presence is a protest against
them. Yet Mr. Thomson speaks of the Catholic missionaries
in a tone of censorious acrimony very different from that of.
most African explorers. On one occasion^ in a village not far
from Lake Tanganyika, he came on a party on their way to join
the station in that district, and, making his way into their tent,
unannounced and uninvited, while they were having such poor

A Recent Contribution to English History. 175

repast as the circumstances admitted of, lie took occasion to
•criticise all their arrangements_, including their food. He speaks
of them as " French peasants/^ severely condemning P^re
Deniaud for inducing them to leave their homes, apparently
quite unaware of their character as missionaries. It is to be
hoped Mr. Thomson may learn with more experience of life greater
sympathy with the aims and motives of others, as it would be a
pity if a spirit of intolerance and self-sufficiency were to mar
ihe many fine qualities which enabled him to do his own work
in Africa so creditably and well.

Ungenerous criticism of this kind is indeed in many quarters the
•only recognition bestowed on the Catholic missionary's labours in
the cause of humanity, and the meed of human praise reaped by
him is at best but small. The motives which sustain the ordinary
traveller are in his case non-existent. His discoveries will evoke
no applause from the learned, his adventures no sympathy from
the multitude, his life's work will be obscure to the end, his
name unknown, his death unchronicled. In the remote deserts
where he has cast his lot scarce a word of appreciation from the
world without ever reaches him to cheer the lonely hours when,
amid the depressing influences of his surroundings, he seems to be
labouring in vain ; for European civilization, absorbed in the
whirl of its own busy round, can spare no thought to those who
by African lakes and streams are working at the noblest task
possible to man here below — the moral regeneration of his fellow
man.

Mimm^

Art. VII.— a RECENT CONTRIBUTION TO ENGLISH

HISTORY.

The History of the Holy Eucharist in Grecct Britain. By
T. E. Bridgett. Two vols. C. Kegan Paul & Co. 1881.

HISTORY is no longer the simple narrative of facts that it used
to be — ad narrandum non ad probandum ; the exhibi-
tion of concurrent events just as they happened en masse, if we
may so say ; a panorama of the contemporaneous political and
religious and social and domestic life of nations at a glance.
The spirit of subdivision, characteristic of the times, has changed,
completely changed, the old summary character of history.
The keen analytical temper of the day has thrown men back
on the past to scrutinize and mark off and draw out each
constituent part, each separate feature of human society, in
order to discover and to estimate at its true worth each

176 A Recent Contribution to English History,

separate motive power in the development and growth of nations
that has contributed to make them such as they are in the
present. Buckleys " History of Civilization/^ Lecky's "History
of European Morals/'' Freeman^'s " Historical Geography/^ each
in its turn and measure is an example of this. Stubb''s "Con-
stitutional History of England '' is a still better example. And
the history that is before us, the " History of the Holy Eucharist
in Great Britain '^ is the best example of all. It is the history
of one single doctrine in its results on the individual life and the
public character of the various races — Britons, Picts, Scot, Saxons^
Anglo-Normans, English and Scotch — that during a period of
more than a thousand years successively peopled this island and
assisted the slow formation of the English nation.

A more fitting title than the one adopted could not have been
chosen for this work. And yet it is open to misconception. It
is just possible that it will mislead people and give them an
impression of something too doctrinal to be generally interesting,,
of something very abstract and learned and dogmatic, or con-
troversial, or pious : more suitable for the study of theologians
or the meditation of religious than for the general reading of
ordinary laymen. This is just what it is not. It is learned, yes.
There is something of dogma in it and something of controversy
too. And moreover it is pious, since that may truly be called
pious which, though marred by the record of much irreverence,
is essentially a narrative of the piety of England in connection with
the Blessed Sacrament, the Mysterium Fidei,t\ie object of supreme
adoration, during all the centuries that followed the adoption of
Christianity by our forefathers down to the hour when the revolt
of lust and greed and pride overthrew the altar of sacrifice and
extinguished the lamp of the old Church throughout the length
and breadth of the land. But so far from being a dry theological
dissertation, a mere abstract, dogmatic, controversial treatment
of the great central rite of the Catholic religion, it is, as we
have already said, a history of the Holy Eucharist in its effects
on the individual and public life of a nation ; and it is so full of
real personal interest, so full of varied biographical and historical
incident; it sets forth in so fresh and striking a way the
important civilizing, educating influence of the faith of the
English people in the Eucharistic Presence, that it will enable
many to see, who have never seen before, how singularly one-
sided and incomplete that estimate of our national growth and
development must be that, heedless of the operation of this par-
ticular belief in early times, overlooks the fact that the Holy

A Recent Contribution to English History. 177

Eucharist was the origin and sanction of some of the great
principles of our national prosperity, as well as a bond of union
between the rulers who enunciated and upheld them and the
ruled for whose benefit they were in the first instance chiefly
established.

A few years ago it would have been impossible to produce
such a history. The difficulties that stood in the way, great as
they must have been now, would have been simply insur-
mountable then. And, indeed, notwithstanding the publication
of the Rolls Series, of the Annals and Memorials and State
Papers, of the Ecclesiastical and Conciliar Documents, of the
critical studies of all the various antiquarian and archaeological
societies that have been laid under contribution for it, it is
surprising that it has been possible even now. A moment^s re-
flection will show why. The old Chroniclers were indiff^erent
to e very-day events. The routine of life, the quidquid agunt
homines, had few attractions for them, little power to arrest
their attention and claim a place in their records for future
generations. Scandal itself — Et quando uberior vitiorum copia ?
— had a better chance of immortality at the hand of the scribe
than a regularly recurring round of worship which everybody
was bound to know and everybody was bound to practise.

Why should the annalist describe what everyone knew and daily
witnessed ? It would have seemed as natural to chronicle the daily
rising of the sun and the effect of its rays upon the world. Indeed,
there is a singular analogy between what is said of the weather and
of the Blessed Sacrament. The annalists place on record how there
was an earthquake throughout England in 1089, how a comet with
two tails appeared in 1097, and mock suns in 1104 ; how at
one time the Thames was almost dried up, and how at another it
overflowed its banks ; how thunder was heard on the feast of the
Holy Innocents in 1249, while snow fell at the end of May in 1251,
They tell of eclipses, murrains, severe winters, droughts, signs and
portents. But they never describe the verdure of spring, the genial
heat of summer, the fruitfulness of autumn ; they never describe the
full river flowing peacefully, or the midnight skies covered with
brilliant stars. In the same way, if a church is burnt in an incursion
of the enemy, if a murder is committed within the walls of the sanc-
tuary, if the sacred vessels are stolen from the altar, if the holy rites
cease during an interdict, such events are chronicled. But the daily
service of the church, the fervent communions, the prayers poured out
before the altar, the acts of faith and charity — all these, as a matter of
course, are scarcely heeded.

Yet not for an instant must it be supposed that the " History
of the Holy Eucharist in Great Britain " is unduly concerned with
the dark side of the picture ; that evil is more prominent than

VOL. VI. — NO. 1/ ITJiird Series.} n

178 A Recent Contribution to English History,

good in it ; that irreligion and sacrilege perpetually cast their
deep shadows across its pages. Abuses and crimes have their
place, for the author does not suffer from ' the endemic per-
ennial fidget about giving scandal/ and think that ' facts should
be omitted in great histories, or glosses put upon memorable
acts, because they are not edifying? '"^ But the sanctuary in which
a murder was committed evidences something more enduring
than the crime that profaned it ; the stolen vessels betoken
something more general than the sacrilegious theft that desecrated
them ; the interdicted rites witness to something more habitual
than the disorders that led to their suspension. And it is just
this something, the sustained faith of ages in its highest mani-
festations and noblest issues that Father Bridgett has mainly
occupied himself with, till from the homes of the serf and the free-
man, from the haunt of the wretched leper, from the quadrangle
of the cottage, from the lecture-hall of the university, from the
camp of the soldier, from the cell of the hermit and recluse, from the
cloisters of the monastery and convent, from the courts of justice,
from the legislative assemblies of the nation, from the council-
chamber of the bishop, from the palace of the sovereign, he has
brought a vast concourse of witnesses, men and women, bearing
testimony to one all-pervading belief, which, penetrating the
whole fabric of society, domestic, social, and political, ennobled life,
stayed crime, and found a royal utterance in the Cathedrals and
Abbeys that are still the wonder and glory of our land, and that
— in spite of all the scientific knowledge of this age of discoveries,
in spite of all our mechanical appliances, of all the skill of our
artizans, of all the ceaseless industry of our operatives, unspoiled
by the enforced idleness of Saints' days, so distressing to the
enlightened, far-reaching wisdom of political economists — no
architect can now approach in beauty of proportion and form,
and no workman can surpass in strength and perfection of
masonry.

II.

Beginning with the early British Church, we find the scant
though clear proofs of a belief in the Real Presence identical with
the belief of the Catholic Church at the present day, and conse-
quently a belief utterly opposed to the tenets of Protestantism,
gradually augmented by side lights from Brittany, and finally
completed by the full radiance of the Gallo-Roman and Frankish
Church, with which the Armorican Church was in close union,
and which, in turn, the Armorican united to the sister Church
of Great Britain and Ireland. This chapter. Side Lights from

* Card. Newman, "Historical Sketches."

A Recent Contribution to English History. 179

Brittany, is a very important one, and is, besides, an admirable
instance of the historical acumen of Father Bridgett and of the
critical and constructive method employed throu^^hout his book.
A few words of Tertullian^s, written in 20^, as many of
Origin's, a few more of St. Jerome's, St. John Chrysostom's
explicit statement that, ^even the British Isles have felt the
power of the Word ; for there, too, churches and altars
(^v(na<rT{]pia, a word of special significance, used as it is by St.
John Chrysostom in the numberless passages of his works where
he maintains the doctrines of the Real Presence and of Sacrifice)
have been erected ;' the fact that the Council of Aries, held in
the year 314, at which canons were enacted, regarding the
uniform observance of Easter according to the decision of the
Bishop of Rome, the consecration of bishops, and the inviolability
of the sacrament of marriage, was attended by the Bishops of
York and London and Caerleon; a brief mention, here and there,
by Hhe ascetic and keenly religious' Gildas, of the most holy
sacrifice, the heavenly sacrifice (saorosancta sacrificia, coeleste
sacrijiciunfi) called mass or missa, then as now, and one or two
of his canons treating of the Eucharistic Rite, with special
reference to the penances incurred by carelessness in the
administration of it, together with his lament over the unworthy
lives of certain of the clergy, " raw sacrificantes et nunquam
puro corde inter altaria stantes/' this is the sum of what we
know expressly concerning the faith and practice of the British
Church in relation to the Blessed Sacrament before the landing
of St. Augustine in 597. Definite, unmistakeable, suflRcient
evidence, it is true, for those who know how to read it aright,
yet really how scanty viewed apart from what it implies. But
when we cross the w^ater, and are landed on that little corner of
territory, cut off by geographical position, as well as socially
and politically isolated from the rest of Gaul, we are presented
with a store of facts, which, though it has not been totally
ignored hitherto, has, nevertheless, been so little heeded that
modern historians have failed to realize that it belongs directly
to the history of the Church in this country, and bears expressed
on its beliefs and practices rarely more than implicitly or
indirectly conveyed to us by the passing allusions of ancient
historians.

That the Britons from Great Britain founded a small independent
kingdom in Armorica a century before Clovis and his Franks passed
the Rhine, is now. Father Bridgett, using the words of M. de
Courson, the learned historian of ancient Brittany, says, as
uncontested a fact as the existence of the sun in the heavens ;
though Breton writers, under Henry III. and Louis XIV., had to
expiate in the Bastile their temerity in maintaining such a

N 5i

180 A Recent Contribution to English History.

proposition. From that time down to the invasion of Britain by
the Saxons in the fifth century^ there appears to have been a
constant emigration of Britons to Gaiil ; and afterwards it
increased to so great an extent that the whole body of the
inhabitants of Western Armorica came to look upon themselves
as British or of British origin. And the British emigrants of the
fifth century did w^hat Gaulish missionaries on the borders of
Lower Brittany had failed to do. They covered Armorica and
the islands round about the main-land with monastic and eremitical
settlements., rescued by their preaching and example the original
inhabitants from the idolatory of Druidism, converted them to
Christianity; and so both rendered the fusion of the two peoples,
alike in race and language, and differing only in religion, com-
plete, and completed the establishment of the continental British
Church.

Leaving aside the lives of the saints venerated in Brittany as
involving disputes about dates and authenticity. Father Bridgett
draws his facts concerning the religious practices of this off-shoot
of the Mother Church in Great Britain from two principal sources,
viz., Gallic Councils legislating for the British Church and con-
temporary Gallic writers.

The conciliar evidence is very remarkable and of the first
importance. Keeping well in view the political and geographical
isolation of the Britons in Gaul, analogous to the isolation
of their brethren in Great Britain after the Saxon invasion, Father
Bridgett advancing from council to council gradually unfolds an
uninterrupted and growing intercommunion of the Gallic and
British Churches, until at last we come to see that the detailed
information which we possess regarding the Eucharistic Rite as
celebrated in other parts of Gaul is applicable to Brittany and
through Brittany to our own country, Great Britain, which kept
up such close relations with the British Church of the emigration,
united by ecclesiastical organization to the province of Tours,
that two of its Churches, one at Canterbury in the south-east, the
other at Withern in the north-west — the only two whose early
dedications have come down to us — were dedicated to St. Martin
of Tours. From the first Provincial Council of Tours, opened on
the octave day of the Feast of St Martin in 461 under the
presidency of St. Perpetuus, in which a British bishop took part,
Mansuetus episcopus Britanorum interfui et subscripsi,
on to the provincial synod held at Tours in 567, ecclesiastical
legislative measures, canons and decrees were enacted regarding
abuses amongst the clergy similar to those reprobated in
unmeasured language by Gildas, which leave no doubt of
the antiquity of the discipline of clerical celibacy and its close
if not indissoluble connection with belief in the ileal Presence.

A Recent Contribution to Emjlish History. 181

For example, the first council named insists on the absolute
necessity, not merely of conjugal chastity, but of viri^inal
chastity, or at least of continence, for the ministers of the
altar " who at all times must be ready with all purity to
offer sacrifice.'^ And although it so far mitigates the rigour
of earlier councils as to admit to communion those who,
having been married previous to their ordination, were unwilling
%o observe this discipline, it interdicted their admittance to the
higher grades of the ecclesiastical hierarchy and forbid them the
ministry of their respective functions. It must be borne in mind
that Mansuetus, the bishop of the Britons, subscribed the canons
of this Council, which are therefore a witness to the discipline of
celibacy, and also to the motive of it, in Britain as well as in
Gaul. The excommunication of Macliarus is perhaps a still
stronger proof of the ordinance in Brittany. Macliarus was a
British prince. After he had been tonsured and consecrated
bishop, seeing a chance of succeeding to the throne, he let his
hair grow, and took back his wife, from whom, on becoming a
cleric, he had been separated. For this, according to St.
Gregory, of Tours, he was excommunicated by the rest of the
British bishops. Another council, held under the presidency of
of St. Perpetuus, at Vannes, in Brittany, accentuates the motive
of the decrees of the Council of Tours enjoining celibacy four
years previously; it forbids all deacons and sub-deacons from
being present at marriage feasts and dances, then conducted with
much indecency, " in order that they may not defile their eyes and
ears consecrated for the sacred mysteries." And further, the
synod assembled at Orleans in 511, and attended by Modestus,
bishop of Vannes, marks the increasing and ever-watchful care to
maintain due reverence for the '* sacred mysteries ^' by its twenty-
sixth canon, which forbids anyone to leave the church during
the celebration of Mass. Then, whilst the attendance of two
British bishops, St. Paternus, of Avranches, and St. Sampson, of
Dol, at a council held in Paris, in 557, shows continued harmony
between the two churches of Brittany and Gaul in the inter-
communion of the saints of both countries, we find just ten
years after at a provincial synod at Tours, the bishops of Tours and
Rouen and Paris and Nantes and Chartres and Mans, and one
or two others engaged on measures to stay the action of political
causes at that time moving the Britons to seek independence of
a see that had become Prankish territory, and at the same time
lamenting bitterly the necessity that compelled them to renew
the decree, obliging the clergy married previous to ordination^
very numerous in those days, to live apart from their wives.
"Who could have believed that a man who consecrates the Body
of the Lord would be so wickedly bold had not such abuses arisen

182 A Recent Contribution to English History,

in these last days as a punishment for our sins ? " These strong
words, Father Bridgett points out, '' were not directed against
concubinage, nor against attempts to marry after ordination —
for tliere was no question at all on such matters — but against a
continuance in a lawful marriage after the voluntary separation
promised in ordination/'

Conciliar evidence, however, though interesting and of great
consequence, necessarily partakes of something of the abstract,
dry character that inevitably attaches to legislative measures
and enactments of the past dealing with classes and bodies of
men; but scarcely are we conscious of it in this case before
the whole subject is vivified by the personal narrative of the
two contemporary authors who throw direct light on the Church
of Brittany in early times, and we are carried away by the real
interest of biographical incident. Fortunatus, bishop of Poictiers,
the friend of St. Felix and the Secretary of Queen Badegund,
writing an inscription to be engraved on a golden tabernacle
or tower for the preservation of " the priceless pearl, the Sacred
Body of the Lamb Divine;" poor Ursulfus suddenly regaining
his sight while assisting at Mass one Sunday, duTn esset ad
pedes Domini et cum reliquo populo missaruTii solemnia
spectaret, so that he could go up to the altar to receive com-
munion without a guide, ad sanctum altare communicandi
gratia ; the cripple placed at the tomb of St. Martin cured on
the feast of the saint, at the end of Mass, when the people began
to receive the body of the Bedeemer; men and women going
into the Church at all hours and prostrating themselves in prayer
before the high altar ; the old woman trimming the lamps before
nightfall; the priest Severinus decking his Church with garlands
and lilies, and Queen Badegund with the Abbess Agatha
wreathing Christ's altar with flowers at Easter-time ; the solemn
oath taken before the altar with the hand sketched over it, just
as it was in Gildas's time ; the obligation of the dominical Mass,
and Severinus having said Mass at one church riding every
Sunday twenty miles to celebrate a second ; the widow attend-
ing daily the Mass she caused to be said for a whole year for her
dead husband; the sermon of St. Csesarius, bishop of Aries,
rebuking the people for leaving the church before the sermon —
some to go home, some to talk and laugh and quarrel outside —
and urging them to wait till the mysteries are ended, since
though they could have prayers said and the Scriptures read in
their own houses, only in the Church could the oblations be
made and the Body and Blood of Christ consecrated, consecra-
tionem vero corporis vel sanguinis Domini non alibi, nisi in
Domo Dei, aiidire vel videre poteritis ; all this and much more
besides gives an insight into the British Church such as was

A Recent Gontrlbufion to English History, 18?J

hitherto deemed unattainable, whilst it utterly breaks down
the theories of a pure British Church, untainted by the Romish
corruptions of the invocation of saints and the adoration of the
Blessed Sacrament; and reads like a chapter out of the history
of the middle ages rather than one of those far-away-times best
known through political historians as the dreary ages of
barbarism with all their horrid accompaniment of bloodshed and
lust and rapine.

III.

Unquestionably many of the apparitions and visions and
miracles recorded of the first centuries of Christianity, are cal-
culated to irritate and it may be shock, not only those who con-
stitutionally lack the broad humanity of Terence, but those
also, who more richly endowed have nevertheless been so
narrowed by the bigotry of their bringing-up, and the cramp-
ing nature of their intellectual surroundings in after life, that
they cannot give a patient consideration to anything so opposed
to their preconceived notions of what ought to be, as that God
should be able or willing to suspend the Laws of Nature at the
prayer of one of his creatures. Such as these cannot fail to be
arrested by the calm, philosophical spirit with which Father
Bridgett, using, as he was bound to do, the important matter con-
tained in what a less conscientious historian would have been
specially tempted in these days to put aside or slur over as
legendry uncertainties if not something worse, insists that,
whether or not the miracles and visions of early historians be
considered delusions or impostures, they are at least consonant
with the customs of the period, and must be accepted as evidence
of the belief of the times. And certainly no unbiassed judge
could deny that incidents like that related by Adamnan of the
youth of St. Columba ^ may be fairly adduced as evidence of a
state of mind amongst the Northern Picts, either arising from an
habitual sense of God's omnipotence engendered by their belief
in transubstantiation, or at least as a proof that such a doc-
trine could have met with little resistance on account of its
intrinsic difficulties if for other reasons it was proposed for
acceptance.'

But the history of the Holy Eucharist, in the Scottish and
Pictish Churches, does not all run along the smooth lines of
miracle. It has its stern side there as well as in the Church of
Apostolic times. Another incident, preserved by the same Adam-
nan, discloses the repressive power of the Blessed Sacrament in
its connection with the working of the penitential system.
Libanus, an Irishman, slew a man and afterwards violated a
solemn oath. He went over to lona^ made a full confession ^o

184 A Recent Contribution to English History.

St. Columba, and swore that he was willing to fulfill any
penance to atone for his sins. The Saint required him to live in
exile, but in monastic service, for seven years, and at the end of
that time to return to him during Lent, ' Ut in Paschali solem-
nitate altarium accedas et Eucharistiam sumas.'' And this repres-
sive power becomes more and more apparent the further we advance
in the history before us : a power that often it has been impossible
for those outside the Catholic Church to realize either because
from having adopted a most unfortunate method of metaphorical
interpretation, which plays havoc with the plainest words, they
have utterly misunderstood the language concerning the central
Rite of the Apostolic Church in all times and in all places, or
else because they have deliberately shut their own eyes to its
true meaning and veiled it for others who looked to them for
guidance.

To those who share the conviction of Venerable Bede that the
Catholic Church has never erred and never can err, because she is
the Spouse of Christ and has received the Holy Ghost for her dowry,
there is no need to prove that the early Church was one in faith
regarding the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar with the Church of
to-day, and for them it will be enough to know that the Scots and
Picts were in communion of worship with the Anglo-Saxons, and
both with the Church of Rome, to be sure that, when St. Gregory
planned a new hierarchy for Great Britain in the sixth century, the
same faith was preached, the same sacrifice offered, as when Pius IX.
and Leo XIII. divided the island in the present century. Nor ought
it to be difficult to convince any unprejudiced mind of this identity of
faith by the identity of language on the subject of the Eucharist. A
modern Catholic reading the "Life of St. Columba, "written by Adamnan
m 696, or the " Ecclesiastical History of England," written by Bede in
7 36, will find every formula familiar to himself, and expressing his
laith exactly as well as adequately. Protestants, on the contrary,
whether Calvinists, Zwinglians, Lutherans, or High Church Angli-
cans, are uneasy at such language, carefully avoid it themselves, and
sometimes even distort or evade it when making quotations. To give
one example. Bede relates that King Ethelbert gave St. Augustine
the old church of St. Martin, and that "in this they began to meet,
to chant psalms, to offer prayers, to celebrate masses (missas faceve)^
to preach, and to baptize." * In relating this Carte says they preached
and performed " other acts of devotion ; " Collier that they " preached,
baptised, and performed all the solemn offices of religion ; " Churton
that they "administered the sacraments."

Such vague expressions show well enough a want of sympathy with
Bede even as regards so simple and venerable an expression as Mass.
How much less then would Protestants use or understand the various
periphrases so familiar to Bede and to all our early writers, as the

* Bede, i. 26.

A Recent Contribution to English History. 185

celebration of the most sacred mysteries, the celestial and mysterious
sacrifice, the offering of the Victim of salvation, the sacrifice of the
Mediator, the sacrifice of the Body and Blood of Christ, the memorial
of Christ's great passion, the renewal of the passion and death of the
Lamb ! All these expressions are used by Bede ;* and for the Blessed
Sacrament itself (as distinct from the rite of offering it to God) —
besides the more common designations Hostia and Sacrificiura (in the
vernacular Housel) — they would speak of the saving Victim of the
Lord's Body and Blood, the Victim without an equal, a particle of
the sacrifice of the Lord's offering. These expressions are also found
in Bede. Adamnan the Scot speaks of the sacrifice of mass, the
sacrificial mystery, the mysteries of the most holy sacrifice ; and he
tells us of the priest at the altar who performs the mysteries of
Christ, consecrates the mysteries of the Eucharist, celebrates the
solemnities of masses.*)"

If we turn to the writings of Eddi, or St. Boniface, or St. Egbert, or
to the decrees of early councils, we find the same or similar phrases,
varied in every possible way to express a mystery, the sublimity of
which was beyond human utterance. A multitude of verbs were in
common use to designate the action of the priest at the altar. " Missam
cantare " or " canere" might designate the whole action, though with
special allusion to the vocal prayers. " Missam facere," " offerre,"
" celebrare," "agere," would also refer to the whole divine action;
''conficere,""imniolare," "libare," regarded the Hostia,or Victim, which
was our Lord's Body and Blood or our Divine Lord Himself; and
the secret operation by which the bread and wine were changed into
our Lord's Body and Blood was indicated by every word by which
transubstantiation can be expressed, among which we find " transferre,"
" commutare," " transcribere," " transformare.'' " convertere."

After this it is difficult to conceive that there are still
Protestants who affirm that transubstantiation was unknown to
the Anglo-Saxon Church, and was not introduced into England
till the Norman Conquest, when by the influence of the two Italo-
Norman primates, Lanfranc and Anselm, it supplanted the ancient
and pure Protestant or quasi-Protestant doctrine that up to that
date had prevailed. But this is not all. Declarations exist of
Anf^lo-Saxon belief in a change of Substance so plain, so
explicit, that there is no gainsaying them : —

* See Lingard, "Anglo-Saxon Church," i, ch. 7. The expressions will be
found in his history and homilies : " celebratis missarum solemniis "
(iii. 5), " victimam pro eo (defuncto) sacrae oblationis offerre " (iv 14),
" oblfttio hostiae salutaris, sacrificium salutare " (iv. 22), " sacrificium
Deo victimae salutaris offerre " (iv. 28), " corpus sacrosanctum et pretio-
sum agni sanguinem quo a peccatis redempti sumus denuo Deo in pro-
f'ectum nostrae salutis immolamus." — Horn, m Vig. Pasch.

t " Sacrificate mysterium," " sacrosancti sacrificii mysteria," " munda
mysteria," " sacra Eucharistiae celebrare mysteria," " missarum solemnia
peragerc," " m} steria conficere," etc—Vita S. Col. ii., I., i. 40, 44, iii. 17.

186 A Recent Contribution to English History.

Would any one, for instance, mistake the meaning of the following
letter addressed to a Catholic priest ? '^ I beg you will not forget
your friend's name in your holy prayer. Store it up in one of the
caskets of your memory, and bring it out in fitting time when you
have consecrated bread and wine into the substance of the Body and
Blood of Christ." Are not these words explicit? Well, they were
indeed used in writing to a Catholic priest, but it was more than a
thousand years ago, and he who used them was Alcuin,* the disciple
of Bede. And Alcuin's scholar, Aimo, writing in a.d. 841, says,"]"
" That the substance of the bread and wine, which are placed upon the
altar, are made the Body and Blood of Christ, by the mysterious
action of the priest and thanksgiving, God effecting this by his divine
grace and secret power, it would be the most monstrous madness to
doubt. We believe then, and faithfully confess and hold, that the
substance of bread and wine, by the operation of divine power — the
nature, 1 say, of bread and wine are substantially converted into
another substance, that is, into Flesh and Blood. Surely it is not
impossible to the omnipotence of Divine Wisdom to change natures
once created into whatever it may choose, since when it pleased it
created them from nothing. He who could make something out of
nothing can find no difticulty in changing one thing to another. It is
then the invisible Priest who converts visible creatures into the
substance of His own Flesh and Blood by His secret power. In this
which we call the Body and Blood of Christ, the taste and appearance
of bread and wine remain, to remove all horror from those who receive,
but the nature of the substances is altogether changed into the
Body and Blood of Christ. The senses tell us one thing, faith tells
us another. The senses can only tell what they perceive, but the
intelligence tells us of the true Flesh and Blood of Christ, and
faith confesses it."

I would observe that Aimo does not say that the senses are deceived ;
on the contrary, he says that they convey true messages to the mind —
" sensus carnis nihil aliud renuntiare possunt quani sentiunt " — but
that the mind would be deceived if it formed its usual judgment on
their testimony. The senses tell us nothing about substance, the
existence of which is known by reason. And reason judges rightly,
as a general rule, that where the accidents of bread and wine appear,
there is also the substance. But reason does not tell us that this is
necessarily so. There is always this tacit exception — unless by God's
omnipotence it is otherwise. And God's revelation tells us that in
the case of the consecrated bread and wine it is otherwise ; that the
natural substance is not there, but is converted into {transubstantiatur)
the substance of our Lord's Flesh and Blood.

Now it is obvious that so long as this language is ignored or

^ Alcuin, Ejp. 36, ad Paulinum Patriarcham Aquilensem.

t Tractates Aimonis, apud D'Achery. Spicileg. t. i. p. 42, ed. 1723.
The full Latin text is given by Dr. Eock, " Church of our Father," vol. i.
p. 21, to whom I am indebted for this passage.

A Recent Contribution to English History. 187

misunderstood or glossed over, the faith that it indicates is
ignored likewise, and consequently the immense power that such
a faith was in the world for restraining evil, coping with the
wild passions of man in the wildest and most passionate of
times, rousing the dormant intellect of a rude race, and bringing
about the civilization of our country. The offering of the Mass
was esteemed the characteristic and highest function of the
priesthood ; a man could not be ordained priest or deacon unless of
approved life and properly instructed, and once ordained a priest he
was obliged to live in perpetual celibacy. The Mass itself was the
great centre round which the life of the nation revolved. The king
was not crowned, the witan was not assembled, the battle was
not fought, the church was not consecrated, the nuptial contract
was not entered upon, the monk and nun were not professed, the
Abbot or Abbess was not installed, the dead were nob buried
tinless the blessino^ of God had first been souo^ht in the Mass. If
a crime were committed, the celebration of the Holy Sacritice was
suspended until the evil-doers had been brought to justice. St.
Dunstan himself would not say Mass on Whitsunday until the
terrible punishment, i.e^y the loss of a hand, had been executed
on the false coiners : —

" They injure all classes, rich and poor alike, bringing them to shame,
to poverty, or to utter ruin. Know then that I will not offer sacrifice
to God until the sentence has been carried out. As the matter con-
cerns me, if I neglect to appease God by the punishment of so great
an evil, how can I hope that He will receive sacrifice from my hands ?
This may be thought cruel, but my intention is known to God. The
tears, sighs, and groans of widows and orphans, and the complaints of
the whole people, press on me and demand the correction of this evil.
If I do not seek as far as in me lies to soothe their affliction, I both
offend God who has compassion on their groans, and I embolden
others to repeat the crime."

How is it possible to over-estimate the repressive power of
faith in the Real Presence, with such examples as this before us ?
Here was the prime minister of the king, the man who has left
the progressive and constructive stamp of his mind on the laws
of Edgar as well as on the ecclesiastical laws of the period,*
refusing before all the people, on the solemn feast of Pentecost,
to begin the Mass until justice had been satisfied and the course
of evil stopped. And if it be denied that his sacrifice implied
the full-orbed doctrine of the Real Presence upheld by the
Catholic Church of to-day, we have only to turn to the
beautiful account of the Saint's last Mass and death written by
his contemporary, Adelard, for a refutation of the error : —

♦ "Memorials of St. Dunstan " (Rolls Series, 1874-). Introd. pp. cv, cvi.

188 A Recent Contribution to English History^

" On Ascension Day, 988," he says, "Dunstan preached as he had
never preached before ; and as his Master, when about to suffer, had
spoken of peace and charity to His disciples, and had given His Flesh
and Blood for their spiritual food, so too did Dunstan commend to God
the Church which had been committed to him, raising it to heaven by
his words, and absolving it from sin by his apostolic authority. And
offering the sacrifice of the Lamb of God, he reconciled it to God.
But before the Holy Communion, having given as usual the blessing
to the people, he was touched by the Holy Ghost, and pronounced the
form of benediction with unusual grace. Then having commended
peace and charity to all, while they looked on him as on an angel of
God, he exclaimed : ^ Farewell for ever.'

*' The people were still listening eagerly to his voice and gazing
lovingly on his face, when he returned to the holy altar to feed on his
Life ; and so, having refreshed himself with the Bread of Life, he
completed this day with spiritual joy.

" But in that very day the column of God began to totter, and as his
sickness increased he retired to his bed, in which the whole of the
Friday and the Friday night, intent on celestial things, he strengthened
all who came to visit him. On the morning of the Sabbath {i.e. the
Saturday), when the matin song was now finished, he bids the holy
congregation of the brethren come to him. To whom again com-
mending his soul, he received from the heavenly table the viaticum of
the sacraments of Christ, which had been celebrated in his presence,
and, giving thanks to God for it, he began to sing : ' The merciful
and gracious Lord hath made a memorial of His wonders. He hath
given meat to them that fear Him.' And with these words in his
mouth, rendering his spirit into his Maker's hands, he rested in peace.
Oh ! too happy whom the Lord has found watching ! "

Faith in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar was moreover the
real life of another chief factor of civilization among the Celts
and Saxons. It was the keystone of the penitential system of
the Church, without which. Father Bridgett says, the whole
arch of the system would have crumbled to pieces : —

A second great principle of civilization among our Celtic and Saxon
forefathers was the penitential discipline of the Church. This was for
ages both the supplement and the support of the civil law, and was
the principal means both of preventing crimes and of punishing male-
factors. But if you take away the hope of receiving Holy Com-
munion, you take away the keystone from the whole arch of this
system, and it would have crumbled to pieces. The necessity of
receiving the Body and Blood of the Lord on the one hand, the danger
to the soul of doing this without the requisite purity on the other,
could alone have induced men to undergo purifications so hard to
human nature. And be it remarked that the Church, during this
period, dealt not only with sin as an offence to God, but as a crime
against society. Her discipHne took the place, in a great measure, of
civil penalties. While the Church punished crime by penance, the

A Recent Contribution to English History. 189

State could leave the matter almost entirely in her hands. When the
penitential system became less severe, civil penalties became more
rigorous. Or we may perhaps say with equal truth — for in this
matter there were mutual action and reaction — when the State, by
advance in unity and organization, became competent to deal with
crimes against itself, the Church willingly relaxed her penitential
discipline, lest the same crimes should be twice punished. But
certainly, during the period now under review, the chief agent in the
repression and punishment of crime was the Blessed Sacrament of the
Altar, as giving life to the exhortations, admonitions, and maternal
corrections of the Church.

And whenever men fell away altogether into bad courses, when
vice and wrong-doino^ were rampant in the land, the old cry of
Gildas, raro sacrificantes, was again heard. Neglect of Mass
was the invariable accompaniment of broken vows, of luxury
and intemperance : " Male morigerateclerici,elatione et insolentia
ac luxuria praeventi, adeo ut nonulli coram dedignarentur missas
suo ordine celebrare, repudiantes uxores quas illicite duxerant,
et alias accipientes, gulae et ebrietati jugiter dediti.''''

Equally remarkable with what we have called the repressive
power of the Holy Eucharist is its creative power, its power oF
bringing forth positive good, and good not solely in the spiritual
and moral order of things but also the temporal and political.

The Anglo-Saxon dominion spread the blight of slavery over
England. Christianity met it by teaching the spiritual equality
of all mankind redeemed by the Blood of Christ, and destroyed it
'by the practical results of such teaching. The serf and the lord
iknelt before the same altar, and both alike were privileged and
•fcound to receive the same communion. On Sundays the master
Jknd the slave met in the same church to fultil the same
iobligation, imposed without distinction on both, of being present
»Bt the Supreme act of worship, the Sacrifice of the Mass. On
Sundays, the day consecrated in great measure by the dominical
obligation, the bondsman could neither work for himself nor be
eompelled to work for his master ; whilst at the great festival
times of Christmas, Easter, and the Assumption, though the
master could no longer enforce his usual right to the toil of his
serf, the serf was free to labour for himself, and often earned
sufficient not only to render his life less miserable, but even to
purchase, in the course of time, his own freedom. If a master led
his female slave into a breach of chastity, he was bound to give
her freedom as well as to do six months penance himself. And
of all the forms of emancipation obtaining in those days, that
before the altar of the Church, '' sacrosancta altaria, sacrificii
coelestis sedem," as it had been known from the days of Gildas,
was the most frequent ; almost all the existing records on the

190 A Recent Contribution to English History .

subject are taken from the margins of Gospels or other books
belonging to religious houses, and the few references in the
laws imply emancipation at the altar. Once emancipation
gained, no bar stood in the way of the humblest serf in the
land aspiring to the priesthood, in the ranks of which the
highest and the lowest classes met on a footing of absolute
equality. And the sons of slaves, not of plebians only, were received
into the companionship of Ninians, Wifrids, Egberts, Columbas,
all members of royal houses or noble families. " The enslaved
shall be freed, the plebians exalted, through the orders of the
Church and by performing penitential service to God. For the
Lord is accessible. He will not refuse any kind of man after
belief, among either the free or plebian tribes ; so likewise is the
Church open for every person who goes under her rule." So ran
the Brehon Laws, supporting a lofty democracy, a noble
radicalism that will never be surpassed or equalled, though it be
trampled upon and reviled by modern counterfeits that arrogate
the name and usurp its place.

How far such teaching was at first opposed in Saxon times it
would be hazardous to say ; but it is a clearly established fact
that having gained a footing it did not maintain its ground
without a struggle against the spirit of the world in Norman
times. Repeated attempts were made under our Norman kings
to exclude slaves from the priesthood. One of the Constitutions
of Clarendon, rejected by St. Thomas of Canterbury, as opposed
to the rights of the Church, was that no serfs son could be
admitted to holy orders. And the Church, in vindicating her
own prerogatives, and upholding the rights of the poor and
lowly in the reign of Richard II., was fronted with the prayer
of the Commons to the king, "that no naif or villain shall
place his children at school, as has been done so as to advance
their children by means of the clerical state," and was opposed in
the same spirit by some of the colleges of the universities who
actually shut their gates in the face of the bondsman. Never-
theless the Church triumphed, and bishops^ registers show that,
down to the Reformation, emancipation previous to ordination
was a common occurrence.

After all that has been said lately about oaths, their use and
meaning and expediency, we follow with special interest their
import and influence on the early life of the nation, bound up
as they were with the most solemn and awful rites of religion.
In the days of Howel the Good, when a judge was elected, he
was taken to church by the king's chaplain, attended by twelve
principal officers of the court, to hear Mass. At the end of
Mass he had to swear by the relics, and by the altar, and by the
consecrated elements placed upon the altar, that he would

A Recent Contribution to English History. 191

never deliver a wrong judgment knowingly. Two centuries later
we find that an oath was taken at Cirencester not only, tactis
sacrosanctis Evangeliis, but, super sacramentum sanctum.
Earlier still than Howel the Good, the dooms of Ine, king of
Wessex, ordained that greater weight should attach to the oath
of communicants than to that of others. About the same
time the Saxon laws of Wihtred required that, ' a priest clear
himself by his sooth in his holy garment before the altar, thus
saying, "I speak the truth in Christ, I lie not.^' In like
manner a deacon. Let a clerk clear himself with four of his
fellows, and he alone with his hand on the altar, let the others
stand by; and so for the king's thane, the ceorl, and the
stranger, and let the oath of all these be incontrovertible.^
Hence belief in the Real Presence was one of the great safe-
guards of the integrity of an oath, whatever the occasion of it
might be. It brought before the most careless, in a way there
was no evading, a whole system of rewards and punishments
present and future ; it brought a man into the unseen world; it
brought him face to face with the hidden God, Deus ahsconditus.
And what is happening now that that faith is deliberately and
explicitly spurned by the sovereign the moment a king or
queen succeeds to the sway of this Empire? Disbelief in the
necessity of veracity, disbelief in the sanctity of the oath,
disbelief in the existence of God Himself, is following surely, if
slowly, step by step. And whereas formerly the oath of a clerk,
or thane, or ceorl, or stranger, taken with his hand resting on
the altar was incontrovertible, now, no sooner has a witness
been brought into court and sworn, as it is called, ^than he is
treated by the opposing barrister as if he had come purposely to
perjure his soul and to confound justice/

IV.

The exultant prologue of the old Salic Law reaches the
crowning point of the glories of the Frankish people when it
proclaims their freedom from heresy. All their beauty and
boldness and bravery are but as so many steps leading up to
this, ' ad catholica fide nuper conversa et immunis ab herese.'^
It is noteworthy that the Church of the kindred Teutonic race
that conquered Britain, the Anglo-Saxon Church, could boast of
precisely the same characteristic freedom from heresy. So that
when Lanfranc, the first archbishop of Canterbury of Norman
appointment, left the field of his encounters with the shifty,
scoffing, sharp-tongued Berengarius, in the very heat of the

* *' Lex Salica." Prologus. Ed. Merkel.

192 A Recent Contribution to English History.

controversy, and assumed the government of the English Church,
he — the acute and profound defender of the Real Presence, who
had unswervingly affirmed the doctrine of Transubstantiation in
the clearest and most precise terms in France — though his rule
was not without severity, though he deposed bishops and abbots,
though he did not spare the ignorance of the islanders he had
come amongst, could bring no charge of heresy against his new
flock. The Norman invasion was so totally different from the
invasions of the Saxons and Danes because the new conquerors
were one in faith with the vanquished nation. The English,
monks and laity, hated their victors. The Church of Glaston-
bury was the scene of sacrilege and bloodshed, originating in a
feud between the Norman Abbot and the Saxon Monks. But
the cause of the feud was no matter of doctrine, simply the
monks would not abandon their Gregorian chant. If the
victors, full of the controversy that was raging in the land they
had just quitted, had attempted to impose on the Anglo-Saxon
Church a novel faith, as over and over again it has been asserted
they did, history would have been full of the fierce resentment
that springs from the jealousy of religious innovation. As it is
not a single favourer of the Berengariau heresy is mentioned
in English History.

With the gradual quieting down of the country after the Con-
quest, and the amalgamation of the Anglo-Saxon and Norman
people, the Cathedrals and Abbeys and parish Churches of the
Anglo-Norman Church gradually rose and covered the land.
And in the thirteenth century so great was the zeal for splendid
buildings in which to celebrate the Divine Mysteries, that the
Council of London presided over by the Pope's legate, Otho,
in 1237, decreed that 'Abbots and rectors must not pull down
old churches in order to build better ones without leave of the
bishop, who will judge of the necessity or expediency.' The
same Council enjoined that all churches were to be consecrated
' because in them the Heavenly Victim, living and true, namely,
the only begotten Son of God, is offered on the altar of God for us
by the hands of the priest.' Princes, prelates and people vied with
one another in their zeal for the glory and beauty of God's House.
Everything that was richest and most costly w.-^^ committed to
the guardianship of the bishop or abbot for the Church. As
Eadfrid, the fifth Abbot of St. Alban's, in the time of King
Edmund the Pious, had manifested his faith in the Eucharistic
Presence by the offering of a beautiful vessel, cyphum desidera-
bilem, for the Blessed Sacrament, so Robert, the eighteenth
Abbot, v/ho died in 1166, marked his belief by the gift of a
precious vessel under a silver crown; and his successor, Simon,
caused to be made by Brother Baldwin, the goldsmith, a vessel

A Recent Contribution to English History. 193

'most admirable of pure red gold with gems of inestimable value
set about it/ which King Henry II. hearing of, ' gratefully and
devoutly sent to St. Albans a most noble and precious cup in
which the shrine theca, immediately containing the Body of
Christ, should be placed.' Eustace of Ely, one of the three
bishops who published the great interdict in the reign of John,
gave to his Church a gold pyx for the Eucharist. Eustace, Abbot
of Flay, who was sent to England in 1200 by the Pope, fre-
quently admonished priests and people that a light should be
kept burning continually before the Eucharist in order that He
who enlightens every man who cometh into this world might for
this temporal light grant them the eternal light of glory.
William S ted man ' settled a wax taper to burn continually day
and night for ever before the Body of our Lord in the chancel of
the Church of St. Peter, of Mancroft, Norwich.' And this
daily, hourly reverence for the Blessed Sacrament, Father
Bridgett traces in the munificence of our ancestors down through
the centuries, in examples drawn from chronicles and wills of
generation after generation, till we come to what indeed is the
most touching of all : the will of Agnes Badgcroft, a Benedictine
nun. The poor creature was driven from her religious home, the
dissolved Abbey of St Mary's, Winton, by the tyranny of
Henry. Yet she was loyal to the end to her vows and her faith.
And when she died in Mary's reign, by her will, June 30, 1556,
she bequeathed " my professed ring to the Blessed Sacrament for
to be sold and to buy a canopy for the Blessed Sacrament in the
Church of St. Peter's, Colbroke."

Living in the midst of all the multitudinous religious discords
of the present day, breathing whether we will or no the very
atmosphere of theological dissension and strife, it is exceedingly
difficult to seize the full meaning of Father Bridgett's picture of
the Anglo-Norman Church, though it is worked out to the very
least detail of its outward manifestation in material magnificence
and of its moral aspect in the spiritual life of the peop le.Yet unless
we do fully compass it, it is scarcely too much to say that we can
have no real insight into one of the greatest events of the time, the
famous interdict of Pope Innocent III. The picture of the Anglo-
Norman Church brings into view a mighty nation bound together
in perfect concord by the strong tie of religious unity. It
is a complete exemplification of the unitive power of the Holy
Eucharist. It introduces us to a whole people brought together on
an equal footing in one great act of faith and worship which was
at once their highest privilege and their gravest obligation ; the
first care of their daily life, their hope in death, and a bond of
union with those that had left them for another world. Richard I.
in his better days used to rise early and seek first the kingdom

VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.} o

194 A Recent Contribution to English History.

of God, never leaving the cliurch until all the offices were ended.
William the Conqueror heard Mass daily, and assisted at matins
and vespers and other Canonical hours ; and when dying he had
at his own request been taken to the Priory of St. Gervase, with
floods of tears for the terrible destruction of Mantes and his pre-
vious barbarities in Northumberland, he begged that he might
receive Holy Communion from the hands of the Archbishop of
Kouen. When St. David, King of Scotland, felt that his end
was approaching, he had himself carried by the clergy and
soldiers into his oratory to receive for the last time the most holy
mysteries before the altar. Henry III., according to Walsingham,
was wont '^ every day to hear three Masses with music {cum
notd), and not satisfied with that, was present at many low masses
besides ; and when the priest elevated the Lord^s Body, he used
to support the priest^s hand and kiss it. It happened one day
that lie was conversing on such matters with St. Louis, King of
the French, when the latter said that it was better not always to
hear Masses, but to go often to sermons. To whom the English
king pleasantly replied that * he would rather see his friend fre-
quently than hear another talking of him however well.^ Henry's
son,^ Edward I., was so distressed at the neglect of Mass by his
daughter, after her marriage with John of Brabant, that he caused
large alms to be made to atone for it. And the neglect and the
atonement are thus handed down to us in the wardrobe book of
the year : * Sunday, the ninth day before the translation of the
virgin [i.e., the Assumption), paid to Henry, the almoner, for
feeding 300 poor men, at the King's Common, because the Lady
Margaret, the King's daughter, and John of Brabant, did not
hear Mass, 36<s. Id.,' a sum equal to £27 of our money ; and
besides this John of Brabant was obliged by his father-in-law to
give an additional sum in alms. The renowned Bishop of Lincoln,
Robert Grosseteste, had to cope with grave abuses, not because
the nobles neglected Mass, but because they insisted on having it
said privately for the benefit of their own households, a privilege
accorded solely to royalty. Henry of Estria, Prior of Canterbury,
who died in 1330, having been prior for forty-seven years, '^at
last in his ninety-second year, during the celebration of Mass,
after the elevation of the Lord's Body, on the 6th of the ides of
April, ended his life in peace.' St. ^Ired, Abbot of Bievaux,
for ten years grievously afflicted with bodily infirmities, fought
against them so long as he could stand in order to say Mass,
though for the last year of his life after the daily effort, ex-
hausted, he would lie for an hour on his bed, motionless and
speechless. Then when Edward I. wrote to the Archbishop of
York to announce the death of Queen Eleanor and beg for
prayers and Masses, ^ that as she herself could no longer merit.

A Recent Contribution to English History, 195

she might be helped by the charitable prayers of others/ the
Archbishop wrote to the King that the number of Masses he had
ordered to be offered for the Queen^s soul in the parish churches
and chapels where there were priests celebrating amounted to
47^528; and that he had also granted forty days' indulgence to
all who said a Fater and an Ave for the repose of her soul. As
the Masses were to be said every Wednesday for the space of one
year, and would amount to 47,528, a simple calculation reveals
that at the end of the thirteenth century the number of priests in
the archdiocese of York alone was no less than 914. And finally,
to put a limit to proofs that might be multiplied almost endlessly,
the example of William of Kilkenny, Bishop of Ely, who left two
hundred marks to his church to find two chaplains to celebrate
perpetually for his soul, shows that those who were continually
besought to supplicate for the souls of others were careful to
provide against the neglect of their own.

Now the interdict of Innocent III. means the arrest of the
whole of this part of the common life of England for more than
six years. The threat of it startled even the shameless King,
who brought it upon the country, and he vowed that if it were
published he would banish the clergy from the land, mutilate
every Italian in the realm he could lay hands on, and confiscate
the property of every man who should obey it. But the interdict
was published, and correcting the inaccuracies of Mr. Greene's
account of it, and supplying what was wanting to the brevity of
Dr. Lin gardes. Father Bridgett gives us a view of its effects such
as no historian has succeeded in doing before.

The interdict of Innocent III. was no ordinary interdict — if a
measure so exceptional can ever in any sense be rightly termed
ordinary. It surpassed in the severity of its clearly-defined
prescriptions all those of a later date. From the 23rd of March,
1208, 5lass ceased, the altars were stripped and the churches were
closed throughout the land ; espousals could not be contracted
nor marriages celebrated ; infants were to be baptized, but only
at home ; the dying might make their confession, but they could
not receive the Eucharist or Extreme Unction ; the dead could
not be buried in consecrated ground ; friends might lay them
wherever they pleased outside the churchyards, especially where
passers-by would be moved by the sight, but no priest could be
present at the burial ; the bodies of the clergy, inclosed in sealed
cofiins or in lead, might be placed in the trees of the churchyard
or on its walls, but even bishops themselves who died during the
interdict, so long as it lasted, remained unburied.

When it came to the Pope's hearing that some of the Cister-
cians, not considering themselves comprised in the general terms of
the interdict — theirspecial privileges requiring a particular mention

o 2

196 A Recent Contribution to English History.

of them to be made — had begun to say Mass, Innocent, without
blamino" the monks, charged the bishops to determine whether
this partial non-observance was likely to cause scandal, or to make
the Kino* think that he, the Pope, would relent if John persisted
in his contumacy. If it were calculated to do so, they were to
restrict at once the liberty claimed by these religious.

In January, ]209, Cardinal Langton sought and obtained
permission for Mass to be celebrated once a week secretly in all
the conventual churches, where up to that time the interdict had
been obeyed, in order ' that the virtue of this most Divine Sacra-
ment may obtain a good end to this business.' Permission was also
granted to the Cardinal and to the three Bishops of London,
Ely and Worcester to have Mass said for themselves and their
households should they be summoned to England by the King.
But a further entreaty of the Cistercians for something more
than the general concession to monastic orders of a weekly
Mass was firmly, though kindly, refused. They urged every
argument likely to avail, Innocent^s own, for the concession he
had already made, included. But the Pope remained fixed in his
refusal. ' Although,' he wrote, ' you very piously believe that
the immolation of the Saving Victim will bring about more
speedily the desired ending to this business, yet we hope that if
you bear patiently this undeserved pain, " the Spirit who asketh
for you with unspeakable groanings," will all the more quickly
obtain a happy issue from Him, who by bearing a pain not due,
and by paying what he had not taken, hath redeemed us, even
our Lord Jesus Christ. Wherefore we pray and beseech you,
beloved sons, that remembering that this affair is now almost at
its end, you will not disturb its progress, but that you will well
weigh what we have written for God's sake and for ours, who
with a most fervent charity are zealous for you and your order,
and who hold it in veneration ; and that bearing your present
troubles in patience you will give yourselves to prayer to God
that He would so soften the author of this guilt as to absolve
those who bear the pain ; and be certain that, for the undeserved
pain you bear, a worthy recompense is in store for you, not only
from God but from us also.'

History as a rule is so busy with the turbulent doings of the
barons, and so intent on the conduct of the great personages of
the struggle, that we lose sight of the multitude of Religious,
and of the bulk of the people and secular clergy cut off from
everything that made life worth living to them. Such words as
* the disgrace and horrors of the interdict' fall upon almost deaf
ears, so vague and abstract have the circumstances and the spirit
of our own times rendered them. Sermons in Music Halls, if
Music Halls had been in those days, though delivered by the

A Recent Contribution to English History. 197

most eloquent or popular preacher, would never have compensated
for the loss of Mass to the poorest congregation of mediaeval
England. It is just this view of the matter that Father
Bridgett's account of the interdict supplies. Together with the
increasing restlessness of the religious orders under its gloomy-
restrictions, we feel the secret disaffection that was spreading
amongst the people, when, contrary to all the expectations of the
Pope, John — envying Mahommedan nations who knew no
restrictions of morality, and had no Pope to vindicate God's
rights and the rights of God's people — so far from yielding,
hardened himself more and more against God and man; gave
himself up to every kind of brutual indulgence ; is said to have
even sought help from the Emperor of Morrocco with an offer
of renouncing Christianity; pillaged churches and confiscated
the goods of the churchmen who resisted him ; and carried his
impious defiance of interdict and excommunication alike to such
lengths that when he chanced to see a very fat stag brought in,
he cried out with a laugh, ' He had a good life, and yet he never
heard Mass.' No wonder that the terrible verdict of the King's
contemporaries — ^Eoul as it is, hell itself is defiled by the
fouler presence of John' — has passed into the sober judgment
of history.^

Dr. Lingard, with certainly less than his usual perspicacity,
esteems the interdict ' a singular form of punishment by which the
person of the King was snared, and his subjects, the unoffending
parties, were made to suffer.' Father Bridgett shows a wider
grasp of the subject. He has appreciated and exhibits the fact
that, though far less guilty than the King, England as a nation
was at the time far from innocent :

' A mediaeval monarch, however despotic, could not be con-
sidered apart from his people, as if they bore none of the respon-
sibility of his acts. When it suited their own interests the
barons could be bold enough both to counsel and to resist their
sovereigns. The feudal system put no standing army in the
pay and obedience of the King. It left him dependent on the
fidelity of his great vassals. If kings were bold to do evil, it
was because they were pushed on by evil counsellors among the
clergy and the laity, were surrounded by docile agents, and
counted on the co-operation or connivance of their people. What
were the great excommunications and interdicts of the Middle
Ages but lessons in constitutional government given to kings and
people alike, teaching them that they were responsible to and
for each other? If the innocent suffered with the guilty, that is
the very condition of human society.'

* J. E. Green, " History of the English People."

198 A Recent Contribution to English History.

And then more pointedly justifying the Pope for an act that
has been variously misrepresented and misinterpreted as part of
a crafty or ambitious policy, difficult of vindication on the
grounds of either equity or justice, he sums up this section of
his subject :

' The crimes of the country attained their climax in John, one
of the vilest of our kin^s ; and there was no injustice in requiring
the whole nation to unite in expiating his guilt.

^Besides this, if we would form a right conception of the great
interdict of 1208, we must remember that an interdict is not
an ordinary punishment of ordinary crimes. It is a solemn pro-
test against outrages to the liberty and majesty of the Church.
She is established by God as the Queen of the nations as well as
their mother. She has a right to hide her countenance when she
is insulted. She had a right to demand reparation. Pope
Innocent exercised no tyranny. He withdrew from the English
nation nothing to which it had a right. He confiscated none of
its riches, he abridged none of its liberties. It was as a super-
natural society, as a baptized people, as a part of the Church of
which he under Christ was supreme ruler, that he humbled the
nation, or called upon it to humble itself, by the withdrawal of
God^s presence. He judged it better that the Churches should
be closed even for years than that they should be opened for the
pompous but sacrilegious ministrations of the enslaved and
corrupted priesthood which John would have created. It was
better, as he wrote to the Cistercian Abbots, that the Holy Spirit
should, with ineffable groans, plead in the hearts of desolate
men, than that Masses should be offered in the presence of
impenitent sinners.

^ The obstinancy of the King, and perhaps the sins of the
nation, made the interdict far longer than the Pope had antici-
pated. He had hoped that a short vigil would be followed by a
glad festival. It was not his fault if the vigil was of unexampled
length. It was a war, and partook of a war's chances. Inno-
cent chose it, it would seem, as a milder measure than excom-
munication.

' Having once entered upon it he had no choice but to fight it
out to victory, even though the victory could not be gained
without a far more terrible and prolonged contest than he had
expected, and though he was obliged to add at least those other
spiritual penalties from which he had shrunk at first.

* The interdict lasted six years and three months ; for though
the King had been absolved from his excommunication, and High
Mass and Te Deum were sung in the Cathedral of Winchester
on the 20th July, 1213, yet reparation was not made by him,
nor the interdict removed from the country, until July 2nd, 1214>

A Recent Contribution to English History. 199

" Efc factum est gaudium magnum in universa Ecclesia
Anglicana." '"^

V.

Clearly the interdict derived its unconquerable operative power
from the faith of the people, not from the faith of the Sovereign,
and it was a faith that, as we observed just now, had never been
breathed upon much less shaken by the wind of heresy. William
of Newborough, writing at the end of the twelfth century,
rejoiced that England had ever remained free from every heretical
pestilence though many other parts of the world were afflicted by
various forms of its disturbing presence. " The Britons indeed,''^
he wrote, " produced Eelagius, and were corrupted by his doctrine.
But since Britain has been called England no contagion of
heresy has ever infected if And for nearly two centuries after
William of Newborough wrote, England remained free. And
even when the metaphysical subtleties of Wycliffe and the frenzy
of the Lollards against the Holy Eucharist first made its dreadful
disintegrating power felt, heresy had no wide-spread influence,
it did not exert a national influence. Great as the mischief it
did was, it could not alienate the masses from their old faith.

' Ten years after the death of Wycliffe the fanaticism of the
Lollards emboldened them to present a petition to Parliament,
which, though then rejected, is remarkable as being the first
mention in that assembly of a heresy which was, in the course of
centuries, to be adopted by it as a test of the allegiance to the
Crown and Protestant Church. '' The false Sacrament of
Bread,-*' says this petition, " leads all men, with a few exceptions,
into idolatry ; for they think that the Body of Christ, which is
never out of heaven, is, by virtue of the priest's words, essentially
enclosed in a little bread which they show to the people." f

'There was much corruption of morals, much scepticism in
England, at that time among the higher classes, much misery
and ignorance in the lower orders, yet the nation was not yet
prepared to reject the faith of centuries and cut itself off from
Christendom. There was a sturdy common-sense view which,
prevailed over the metaphysical subtleties of Wycliffe and which
is thus exposed by Netter : '^ Are then all infidels who are not
Wyclifiites ? All— Greeks, Illyrians, Spaniards, Erench, Indians,
Hungarians, Danes, Germans, Italians, Poles, Lithuanians,
English, Irish, Scotch — all the innumerable priests and bishops
throughout the world all blind, all infidels ? And has the whole
Church throughout the world now at length to learn from this

* Thomas Wykes, p. 58, EoUs Series. f Wilkins, iii. 221.

200 A Recent Contribution to English History.

John Wicked-life"^ what Christ meant in the Gospel when he
gave His Body in the Eucharist ? And did Christ thus leave
His spouse, the Church of the whole world, deprived of the
possession of the true faith, in order to cleave to this Wycliffian
harlot? Surely the portentous ambition of this new sect is
alone deserving of eternal punishment. You wretched, deluded
men, does it really seem to you a trifle to believe in Christ as
you profess to do, and to disbelieve in His Church ? To believe
in Christ the Head and to sever from Him His mj'stic body ?
To begin the creed with, I believe in God, and to terminate your
counter-creed with, I deny the Catholic Church ?" ''f

Granted that the Lollard negations prepared the way for 'the
wider and ever- widening negatives called by the general name of
Protestantism,' that they did not take real hold of the masses is
abundantly proved in many a chapter of the History of the Holy
Eucharist, embracing the generations that came and went before
the Reformation ' was forced on an unwilling people.' And to
show that they did not affect the choice specimens of human
wisdom and virtue, we have only to recall the names of men and
women like Robert Grosseteste, the upholder of our national
liberties ; William of Wykeham, the illustrious Bishop of Win-
chester ; Elphinstone of Aberdeen, churchman, lawyer, and
statesman ; Margaret, Countess of Richmond and Derby, mother
of Henry VII. and founder of Corpus Christi College, Oxford ;
John Fisher, the great patron of learning, Bishop and Cardinal ;
Thomas More, Chancellor of England and martyr.

John's character and acts proved ' that what is called the
Reformation — that is to say, the perpetual and self-imposed
interdict of the Catholic religion in England — might have come
some centuries earlier than it did had it only depended on the
will of kings. Such men as Rufus and John were quite as willing
as Henry VIII. to sacrifice the souls of their people to the grati-
fication of their own avarice, lust, and hate. Remedies such as
that made use of by Innocent were possible in the thirteenth
century, but would have been found useless in the sixteenth.
They depend for their eflRcacy on the strength of faith, not merely
in one country, but throughout Christendom. When a great
number have come to be of the opinion of John, that temporal
prosperity is more important than religion, and boast how well a
country can get on without Mass — like John's fat buck — then
it would be an idle threat to deprive them of what they already
disregard.'

* "A Joanne, coofnomento impise vitas." If my translation is correct,
this pnn on Wycliffe's name must have been well known in England,
since the Latin wonld convey no meaning to any but an Englishman.

t Thomas Netter (Waldensis), " Doctrinale Eidei," iii. 35.

Of a National Return to the Faith. 201

How in the sixteenth century so great a number came to be of
the opinion of John as to bring about the tremendous revolution
that made the national faith of centuries a penal offence Father
Bridgett does not tell us. Passages such as the one last cited
foreshadow and anticipate the momentous epoch in the History
of the Holy Eucharist when the doctrine of the Real Presence
was reviled as a blasphemous fable and a dangerous deceit,
when the offering of Mass by a Catholic priest was punished
with a cruel death, and the repudiation of it was required
as the price of social preferment or of civil liberty ; but
that is all. The volumes we have been rapidly glancing
through bring us down to the Reformation, and there they
stop. Happily the reason is not far to seek, nor disconcert-
ing when found. In a notice prefixed to the first volume the
author tells us that he had collected materials to complete his
History to the present day ; but when he found that a third
volume would be required to treat adequately the Reformation and
post- Reformation periods, he thought it better to make the early
and mediaeval periods complete in themselves, and he has done so.
And moreover he promises the third volume. It cannot well be
more important than the two volumes before us. But if we have
not shown that it will be of very great importance as the com-
pletion of a work that has hitherto been wanting to the popular
apprehension of our national history, we have gravely failed in
our duty.

Art. VIII.— on SOME REASONS FOR NOT

DESPAIRING OF A NATIONAL RETURN TO

THE FAITH.

[This Paper luas read by the writer before the Academia of
the Catholic Religion.']

A MOST able and thoughtful Paper on the conversion of
England, which was read by an Academician at the last
session in June last, elicited from several members, including the
present writer, the expression of an opinion more favourable to our
wishes than that to which he inclined. The accomplished author of
that Paper appeared to believe that, whereas there were many signs
of a growing tendency on the part of individuals, alarmed at the
swift and wide-spread movement of this age and country tow^ards
disbelief in all and every form of supernatural religion, to fall
back on the Catholic Church as the alone adequately tutelary
system of historic and doctrinal Christianity, yet anything like

202 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

a national return to the faith of our fathers seemed hardly to be
possible. It is with the hope of being able to marshal a few-
facts and draw from them some inferences less unfavourable to
our wishes, that I make the following remarks, which I trust
may serve as topics on which we may have the advantage of
reading others more competent to treat of such matters.

1. My first topic in mitigation of the less hopeful view is a
historic consideration to which in the ardour of controversy we
may perhaps have not been quite fair. I mean the fact that the
first lapse of the national establishment of religion under Queen
Elizabeth was the w^orst. The tone of the Anglican formularies
and that of their defenders since that lapse has been on the
whole an improving tone. Compare the uniform downward
tendency of the other separatists of the sixteenth century in this
andin other lands with that of the Established religion, and you will
see a marked contrast. " Lutherans,^^ says John Henry Newman,
" have tended to rationalism ; Calvinists have become Socinians ;
but what has it become ? As far as its formularies are concerned,
it may be said all along to have grown towards a more perfect
Catholicism than that with which it started at the time of its
estrangement ; every act, every crisis which marks its course,
has been upwards. It never was in so miserable case as in
the reigns of Edward and Elizabeth. At the end of Elizabeth''s
there was a conspicuous revival of the true doctrine."* It is true
that these are the words of an illustrious writer who was at that
timean Anglican; but I think the facts are as he states, however
differently we, and no doubt he himself now, would estimate their
value and importance. I also conceive him to be speaking, as I
do now myself, of Anglicanism in the restricted official sense of
the term. Similarly, what a vast improvement in the doctrine
and tone of the " Caroline ■" Divines over those of the so-called
Heformation ! and though the storms of the great rebellion for a
time swept all before them, these were more akin to an external
persecution, affecting rather the outward conditions of the
establij-hment of religion than its inward and spiritual character.
In the next century, again, the Socinian elements in the
Protestant Church may be fairly said to have been checked, if not
eliminated, by her own action ; and the eighteenth century will
figure in the minds of orthodox Anglicans, nay, of fair-minded
historians, rather as that of Butler, and Wilson, and Home, than as
that of Tillotson,Warburton, Newton, Hoadley, and their successors
and imitators. The undisturbed Erastianism of the last age, again,
has in its turn gradually given-way to the higher conception of the

* J. H. Newman, Catholicity of the English Church: "Hist. and Crit.
s," vol. ii. p. 55.

National Return to the Faith. 303>

Church and her office which is now current among Anglicans. If,
for instance^ we compare an assize sermon preached at the begin-
ning of this century by a very able and excellent man^ whose name
and principal work is still familiar to elderly Oxonians, Mr. Davison,
some time Fellow of Oriel, with such compositions at the present
day, we shall see what a great advance has been made in the interval
of some sixty or seventy years. In the discourse alluded to, the
preacher, speaking of the importance of some public authoritative
instrument for teaching and impressing, warning, or fortifying
the public mind, never once directly or indirectly alludes to the
Church as a divine, or even as a human, institution directed to
this end j but speaks of human and civil law" as their " most
certain instruction/^ as furnishing them with "at least some stock
of ideas of duty,^' and as their '^plainest rule of action.'' I have
said not even indirectly does he allude to the Church, but this
is incorrect ; for I find in the same passage (by Newman in his article
on Davison) the following fine apostrophe : ^' As if the Mother
of Saints were dead or banished, a thing of past times or other
countries, he actually applies to the law of the land language
which she had introduced, figures of which she exemplified the
reality, and speaks of the law as ' laying crime under the
interdict and infamy of a public condemnation."'' (Ih., p. 409).
Lastly, let me remind you that whereas in the first age of
Anglican Protestantism the universal and unchallenged belief
in the real absence of our Lord on her altars was fitly symbolized
by the sordid table and side-benches placed lengthways in the
body of the churches, now I believe I am right in saying that,,
with scarce an exception, and irrespective of the parties and
their shades of belief, or unbelief, which divide the Anglican
Establishment, all Anglican Churches contain a communion-table
placed altarwise, and, in a very large number of instances, intended
and contrived to look more or less like a real altar. If we assume this
fact to have but a slender, or even no, dogmatic significance,,
still the fact remains, and, like other facts, has to be accounted
for. I believe that the origin of the upward tendency in this
as in other particulars is distinctly to be traced in the Anglican
canons of 1603, and again in those of 1661.

2. Next I will remark on the distinct increase of religious
practice which characterizes this latter half of the nineteenth
century. I remember that one of the broad issues which
challenged my attention when first, some forty years ago, I
began to think of the religious question, was the palpable fact
that, whatever might be the alleged superior purity of Protestant
doctrine over that which it supplanted, in point of religious
practice there was no question the so-called Keformation was a
vast decline from the ante-Eeformation standard. The mere fact

204 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

that the pre-Reformation churches were always open, on feast
day and on feria, that the services succeeded each other from
early dawn till noon-tide, and that they were attended hy
crowds of people of all ranks and conditions, whereas after the
religious revolution the churches remained shut, the great
service which brought men to them was abolished, and the times
seemed to have come on this land which God foretold by the
mouth of His prophet when all his solemnities and festival
times should cease, "^ this mere fact is a prima facie condem-
nation of the whole so-called reformation of religion. Well,
whatever stress we justly lay on it, we must in equity proportion-
ately mitigate when, as at the present time, we see a vast
number of churches once more^opened and frequented, and a
most remarkable increase of services, so as in some places to
imitate the Catholic use of churches in the repetition at frequent
intervals of the Holy Mass ; nor only so, but the services thus
repeated are specially those in which that dim and shattered
image of the Eucharistic sacrifice, which the so-called Reformers
substituted for it, is repeated, as if in emphatic repudiation of
the Anglican article, which denounces the reiteration of the Mass
as an abuse to be by all means and for ever done away. More-
over, not only has an extraordinary revival of church services
and church frequentation and observance characterized this time,
but the ritual, as we all know, has undergone such a change in the
Catholic direction as would have simply astounded our imme-
diate progenitors if, as is the case in rare instances still, they had
survived to behold the change. Even in my own recollection
the service and ritual of the Ansjlican Church throufjhout the
land has under^rone an astonishino^ revolution. Instead of a
huge pile of woodwork often entirely obscuring the squalid
communion-table and its deserted septum, and containing, on
three stories, receptacles for a preacher above, a praying minister
in the middle story, and a very ** pestilent fellow," called a
" clerk,'''' on the ground-floor, it is now universally the case that
the preaching and praying desks, cut down from their some-
time lofty estate to a moderate height, or even disappearing
altogether, leave the altar not only visible, but dominating the
chancel and whole church. The '*^ clerk," with his grosteque
utterance and costume, is an extinct species, and the duet
between the parson and this functionary, which represented the
devotions of the whole congregation, is heard no more. Then
as to the administration of the supposed sacraments and
sacramentals of the Establishment, a no less momentous change
has taken place. Even distinctly low Church and dissenting

* Osee ii. 11.

National Return to the Faith. 205

ministers adopt a solemnity and an accuracy of gesture and
rubrical observance such as Archbishop Laud prescribed for the
most part in vain to his clergy, while in their dress and
deportment the clergy of the Establishment exhaust every
device in their unwearied efforts to reproduce the exact type of
a Catholic ecclesiastic. Nor is this confined to the clergy or to
the Establishment. The tone of the public mind, too, when we
can trace its action in obiter dicta, and, as it were, off its guard on
the subject of religion, is clearly different from what it was
some fifty or sixty years ago. I open, for instance an old
Monthly Revieiv of the year 1822, and I find in an article
on a town in Switzerland the following expression : speaking
of Geneva, the writer says : " A free government, the same
religion, and similar tastes, render Geneva attractive to the
English.'''' I concede that in a review or essay treating of
religion such an expression might be found now either in
deprecation or in applause, according to the bias of the writer ;
but I submit that, intention apart, it would not occur to any
one nowadays to assume that Genevan Calvinism is our national
religion. So, again, if you read Maitland's preface to the collected
edition of his Essays, you will see that he elaborately addresses
himself to show that it is not inexcusable for a Protestant clergy-
man to be fair and equitable in treating of Catholic times, and
persons, and things. Nowadays the Surtees, and many other such
societies, publish year by year Catholic documents which are most
damaging to historic Protestantism without a word of apology.
The fact is, that they themselves, and we through them, have taken
most of the chief Protestant positions — for instance, and notably,
the summary polemic view that the Pope is anti- Christ. None
but a few old women (of both sexes) make any attempt to defend
them, and the public mind tacitly consents to browse in the grass-
grown embrasures and unroofed casemates of many an exploded
Protestant transitional fortress. I do not forget the plea that
this is in part indifferentism ; but I believe the temper of mind
which leads men to such inquiries and such publications is not
that of indifferentism but something better and higher in the
greater number.

Here also we must mention the astonishing sums of money,
representing in a vast number of instances the most real and the
most unobtrusive self-denial and sacrifice, lavished on the fabrics
of the ancient churches throughout the land, or expended in the
erection of new and magnificent imitations of them. Altars of
almost unrivalled splendour, stained glass, marl)le and mosaic
wall-surfaces, rich pavements, gorgeous metal-work, paintings of
the loftiest ideal and most artistic beauty, carvings in wood and
in stone, are to be found renewed or created in every church.

206 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

from the cathedral down to the village chapehy ; while instead of
the paltry or misshapen monuments in wood or stone, without
sign in letter or in symbol of Christianity or of any religion at
all, the graves of the dead are surmounted by beautiful monu-
ments breathing in form and inscription the faith and hope of
the Christian, nay even of the Catholic, with regard to the
departed.

3. But, further : to pass from these more direct evidences of
an upward, or Catholic, tendency in the national religion, surely
it is worth our notice how certain causes not only in their nature
not conducive to such results, but positively such as would lead
to adverse and contrary effects, seem to have been and are still
being overruled by a force superior to the conscious intuitions of
men in an opposite sense. First of these I would mention the
religious movements of the last and present centuries represented
by the names of Wesley, Whitfield, Law, Veim, Wilberforce,
Thornton, Simeon, and the rest. Surely it is evident, on the one
hand, that short of the miraculous (of which we are not now speak-
ing), a religious movement, properly so-called, a stirring of the
dry bones of the National Establishment and revival of any kind
of personal religion by the direct operation of Catholic teaching
and teachers, was nevermore entirely out of the question in England
than when the last Stuart sovereign was reigning, and her brother
and afterwards her nephew were plotting and being betrayed by
worthless political gamblers ; and, on the other hand, it is more
evident still that Wesley and those I have just named had nothing
less at heart than the propagation of the Catholic faith : yet if
the Almighty has decreed the recall of England to the faith, but
still, in accordance with His usual moral governance of the
world, does not reveal His right hand by miracle, what other way
could there be for breaking up the dead and slumberous lethe of
that age and country save by such agencies as those whose
genesis and history is summed in those men's names ? Time
would not suffice, nor is it necessary here, to point out how they
broke up the long-deserted and weed-grown fields, not yet ripen-
ing to the harvest, of our fatherland, raising before the eyes of a
generation sunk in so much ignorance and sloth concerning
heavenly things, a vision, vivid though incomplete, of the
Personal, nay, of the Incarnate, God, whose name and office were
then well-nigh effaced from the national mind and conscience.
They delivered a message, tinctured indeed with error, and
unbalanced, but earnest, and sanctioned by lives of self-denying
purity, and full of the unseen and eternal things of which their
times had lost at once the knowledge and the appetite — the
great message of ^^ justice and judgment to come,'' the pleadings
of conscience, and the presages of eternal loss or gain. More-

National Return to the Faith. 207

over, they delivered it divested of any such colour as would have
deprived it at once of every chance of success ; and this not as
an economy, but bond fide as " the ivhole counsel of God" as
they so often say.

Without this preliminary stirring of the national mind, what
would have availed the scattered fragments of Catholic truth
lying buried in formularies and liturgy, which the High Church-
men of a later age were to order and arrange again, and to build
up amidst the scoffs of many and the mistrust of all — nay, even of
themselves — into the ideal of the true and only City of God, as
yet seemingly so far off, and yet so near to them ? The beatitude
of the Divine hunger and thirst for a justice as yet unknown,
would have been prematurely bestowed on such as those who
began, and of whom some still survive, the Oxford movement,
unless it had been preceded by the deep sense of spiritual need,
and love of a Personal E/cdeemer, aroused in them by these
Calvinistic but earnest and pious men. Their writings and
examples were the food of young souls, as yet unfitted for a
stronger meat by the prejudice of birth and of education. Thus
Wesley, and the rest, whose work was to become a running sore
in the body-politic of Anglicanism, and the Evangelical school
within it, who have long since degenerated into mere anti-
Catholic fanatics, seem to me to have prepared the way for a
movement which they neither contemplated nor would have
approved if they could have foreseen it.

4. But now let us look for a similar paradox in a totally
different direction. In the last century the whole of our litera-
ture was, as has been often said, in one conspiracy against the
Catholic religion. The writings of our classical authors, from
Pope — himself a Catholic, but half-drowned in the torrent of con-
temptuous ignorance of Catholic things around him — downwards,
either entirely ignored, or grossly misrepresented and inveighed
against, the truth, and a whole jargon of invective was invented
and served up, in season and out of season, in large or small doses,
to denounce, ridicule, and contemn the Church, and especially the
Church of the middle and later ages.

The fierce persecution of the last two centuries had indeed
begun to relax, and State prosecutions, the axe and the stake, had
well-nigh become things of the past a hundred years ago ; but the
gross violence of the mob made itself felt by the Catholics of
London in 1780, in a way which showed plainly how well the
people had learned to hate the faith from which their fathers had
apostatized. Moreover, a new impetus and a more specious show
of reason had been given to the irreligion of the educated
classes by the French Freethinkers, whose efforts tvere soon to be
crowned with portentous effects in France. Milton and Hobbes

208 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

were the philosophic parents of the French materialists and
doctrinaires_, who, in their turn, gave us our Bolingbrokes,
Humes, and Gibbons, and Paynes, and so many more impugners
of dogmatic and historic Christianity, while in the political order
our Whig statesmen and legislators were deeply tainted with the
French irreligion, which suited their aims as well as it did their
vices.

In the very noontide of this condition of things there appears
suddenly, without assignable cause or antecedent, a group of
writers who, yielding to none of their contemporaries in personal
conviction of the entire error and absurdity of Catholic doctrine,
nevertheless produce a new literature, destined in a short time to
effect a very wide- spread and complete reaction of sentiment and
feeling in the cultivated mind of the nation. Southey, learned,
brilliant and absorbing; Scott, picturesque, scenic and genial;
Coleridge, profound, original, seductive ; Wordsworth, the pensive
interpreter of Nature, her prophet and her priest — one and all true
poets, rise up each in his place, and with one consent break forth
with a strain of such harmony that no one that has ears to hear
but must confess their song has some common origin. Whether
they will it or not, they are the mouthpieces of a Spirit mightier
than themselves, and instruments in a scheme beyond their ken
and their intention. Thus, early in this century, as some of us can
remember, the enthusiasm and ardour of our childhood or our
youth were rallied, not as our fathers had been to the side of
pagan virtues and formed on pagan examples, but to the great
ideal of Christendom, its chivalry, its high enterprise, its pic-
turesque beauty, its soul-stirring mixture of a splendid and
mysterious religion, with all the shifting accidents by flood and
field that form the favourite ground whereon young imaginations
delight to expatiate. It was in vain that the very authors them-
selves strove, in foot-note or appendix, to keep up in their readers
the orthodox Protestant traditions as to the folly and iniquity of
mediaeval belief and mediaeval practice ; their poetic estro was too
strong for them, and while they tried to swell the chorus of the old
malediction, lo ! they " blessed us '' altogether with anew estimate;^
at least in feeling and sentiment, of those things and persons we had
been so carefully trained to hate and to mistrust. Would Mait-
land''s ^'Dark Ages,^^ and a host of similar books which now
cover the tables and shelves of every drawing-room and book
club throughout the country, ever have been written, unless they
had been preceded by such poems as " Roderick the Goth,'''
"Marmion/^ and " Cristabel,'' or such novels as "The Abbot,^^
"The Monastery,'' " Kenilworth,'' " Waverley," and so forth?
I trow not. And now, if English youth, you may depend on it,
have no lon^^er the same estimate as that with which we begun

National Return to the Faith. 209

life, of such names as '^ priests/^ " monks/^ '^ nuns/' " monas-
teries/'' " cloisters/' and the like, why is it but because we were
tauo^ht a truer one, not by the grave and authoritative teaching
of Catholic educators, for we had none, but by the pens of such
queer Christians as Robert Southey, LL.D., or Samuel Taylor
Coleridge or Walter Scott. It matters not whether Southey^s
learning, or Coleridge's metaphysics, or Scott^s antiquarian lore
had either much or little to do with their literary success — what I
dwell on is that they "made their running," as the phrase is, on
ground hitherto so despised and rejected as that of the Middle
Ages, by an appeal primarily directed to the most '^forward and
obtrusive ''' of all our faculties. This I esteem a stroke of Provi-
dence. If God is light and truth, heresy is both error and dark-
ness too, and surely nowhere is it more conspicuous than in
England that the strength of heresy lies in the ignorance of the
people with regard to spiritual truths, in which more than in
any other branch of human science contempt is the sure gauge
of ignorance, as knowledge is the parent of esteem and reverence.
Now, though we must admit that the mass of our people are still
sunk in gross ignorance, and seem incapable of illumination in
spiritual things, yet there is an advance even among them in
places where High Church clergy have been at work for many
years in school and church. Nor must we forget that this literary
movement was manifestly the parent of similar ones in the other
forms of poetry. Architecture, painting, music, have all since
received a similar inspiration and impulse. It is an exception to
a general rule that a Catholic bishop (Milner), and a Catholic
architect (Augustus Welby Pugin), had a share, and a very large
one, in the revival of a due respect and admiration for mediaeval
art : in both cases they were preceded by non-Catholics — viz., the
Protestant Canon Nott, of Winchester, and the Quaker Rickman.
But this touches on a separate topic, on which I would fain say a few
words later. I will here only mention, in passing, a reflection which
admits of much and interesting development — viz., the influence
of the revival and spread of mediaeval Christian ideas upon our
language ; in which you will most probably have noticed that a
number of words have of late obtained a footing which were
unknown, or, if known, then misapplied, a generation or two ago.
Nor is it unworthy of notice that as the isolation and consequent
stupid insular pride of the last age was an agent for evil in
making us contemn all foreigners and foreign things, and therein
of course the faith which had become strange to us, so now the
contact with our neighbours and the ditfusion of their tongue is
productive of some good by familiarizing us with the knowledge
and phraseology of their religion. I pass to another topic.

5. While our romantic poets were in their childhood or nonage
VOL. VI. NO. I. [Third Series.] p

210 On some Reasons for not Desjmiring of a

a neighbouring country was passing through the throes of a
revolution which a century has scarcely sufficed to play out. An
astonishing enthusiasm fell upon well-nigh the whole governing
classes of the French people. A systematic attack had been
planned and carried out by a band of clever specious sophists
on all the existing institutions of the country ; the disciples
of Voltaire, of Diderot, of D^Alembert, of Yolney, and J. J.
Rousseau, and so many niore, were to be found on the steps
of the throne, in the senate, and in the magistrature — nay, in the
assemblies of the clergy itself. The scheme had been contrived
with a wonderful cunning; the kings of a whole continent, who'
were themselves a chief aim of the conspirators, were trained in
the school of the new philosophy, and made use of as cat's-paws to
carry out their nefarious views ; infidel and philosophic ministers
led them on step by step to destroy the power which had been
their only possible stay and support. The Church"'s vanguard,
that illustrious society whose privilege it is to be the first object
of the hatred of the enemies of God and His Church, was dis-
banded and driven for shelter from the dominions of Catholic
kings to those of the schismatical and heretic sovereigns of Eastern
and Northern Europe. Then came the end : the Church itself
in France, and wherever France had sway or influence, was clean
abolished, and a vast number of her bishops and pastors vv'ere
thrown on our neighbouring shores. Scarcely a family of note
or position throughout the land, but received some of these
sufferers into its intimacy. Either as guests and inmates, or as
laborious and successful teachers, they found access to the interior
of that boasted fortress — the Englishman's house and home. Eight
thousand French ecclesiastics were sheltered among us ; and,
thanks be to God, to know them was to esteem and to love them.
Besides good people had some hopes that kindness might convert
them from frog-eating, popery, and wooden shoes. True they
were Papists, but this vice was a vice of origin over which they
had no control ; idolatrous, massing priests or bishops, performers
of strange rites in a " tongue not understanded of the people ; "
but perhaps if they now came in contact with the pure Gospel,
and beheld its fruits in the sanctities of English homes, wlio
could tell whether they would not see the error and darkness of
their way, and embrace the true Protestant religion as by law
established? French — that is contemptible ; Popish — that is
abominable ; eaters of vermin and worshippers of stocks and
stones they were by the disadvantage of birth and prejudice of
education ; but then they were certainly well-bred and refined,
devoted and loyal subjects of their king, and sufferers in his
cause. Moreover, they played whist, and played it well ; these
were not small merits, and perchance were destined to develop.-

National Return to the Faith. 211

Under the fostering influence of British food and port wine,
their appetite for kickshawSj religious as well as culinary, would
surely fail. His Majesty gave up his red-brick palace at
Winchester to house nine hundred of these worthy ecclesiastics,
and the University of Oxford set its press to work and turned
out, for the use of the Gallic clergy in exile ('^ in usum cleri
Gallicani exulantis"), a very neat edition of the New Testament —
" Vulgatse Editionis^' — at once a generous evidence of good-will
and a possible means of converting them to a purer faith, since,
as all men knew, the main cause of the protracted existence of
Popery was their ignorance and dread of reading the Scriptures.
This view, by the way, must have received a check by the fact that
the book bore on its title-page that it was brought out ^^cura et
studio quorundam ex eodem clero Wintonise commorantium.^^
These examples on the part of an eminently Protestant king
and university were largely followed, and so it came to pass that
Mr. and Mrs. Bull and their young folks throughout the land
obtained an unexpected ocular proof that the cherished belief
about Popish priests was, to say the least, exaggerated, if not
erroneous. Neither horns nor hoofs had they : this was certain,
and, language and dietary apart, they were, after all, found to be
tolerable " good fellows."''

Well, time went on, and the poor emigres got thinner and
thinner, and many that had come here till the storm should be
overpast, laid their anointed bodies in the old, once Catholic,
churchyards of England, to. await there the resurrection of the
just, and thus took possession of our land in the name of justice
and of faith ; but still the revolutionary tornado swept relentlessly
over fair France without sign of abatement. Meanwhile, what is
this stir and sound of footfalls in the little chapels served by
" Mushoo," the French abb^ ? In back courts of great cities,
or in outhouses of remote country-places, l(3nt or let to the
exiled nobility still mourning for the torrents of blue blood
which flood their native land, Mr. Bull is credibly informed
that '^ Mushoo's '^ flock is increased and increasing. Hundreds
and thousands, nay, tens and hundreds of thousands, of emigrants
are flocking into England : but now it is not the powdered and
gentle noble who is to invade his drawing-room, and even place
his polite legs beneath the yet more polished shadow of Mr. B.'s
sacred and inviolable mahogany, but only poor frieze-clad Paddy,
useful, cheap, hard-working and merry ; contemptible, of course,
because he is not English — and all but Englishmen are con-
temptible— and a degraded priest-ridden Papist. O ! what would
Mr. Bull have said, if he had been told that these are to become
the flock who alone would render it possible that in a brief half-
century, the names and functions of a Catholic hierarchy should

p 2

212 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

spread like a net over all England, the augury and presage of a
" second spring " ! Meanwhile, in the poorest quarters of our
cities, a Catholic population grows up, and the English people
have learnt to see in the dreaded Popish priest no foreign political
agent, but only a quiet, hard-worked clergyman, with a definite
work of mercy and love to fulfil, rewarded not by State emolument,
but only by the gratitude and affection of his people. Poor they
are, these Irish, and alas! too often not exemplary, nay, scandalous^
if you will, in their lives ; every workhouse and every gaol knows
them, and the Protestant wealth and power and fanaticism of the
nation buys the weak and breaks down the strong, in many and
many an instance ; but still, it is the great wave of Irish emigra-
tion, Irish faith, and love, and zeal, which has carried the Ark of
God, His Name, His Priesthood, and His adorable Presence, to
many a resting-place in town and country-side, where they had
been unknown for three dreary centuries. Now, the reason why
I couple these two emigrations together, is not merely because
they synchronize — which is also a symptom of a Divine disposition
to my mind — but because they resemble each other in the matter
of causality so far as this, that neither of those causes to which
they are referable — viz., the French Revolution in the one case,
and Orange rule and corruption in the other — were placed by their
respective authors, to say the least, with any intention or wish
whatsoever to produce, however remotely, any results favourable
to the propagation of the Catholic religion in England, or any-
where else.

6. And if you will allow me but one other illustration of this
sort of discrepancy between man's intentions and God's results,
where can I better find it than in the history of that later stage
of the religious movement of our times, to which so many of us
directly owe the benefit of conversion to the Faith ? Who, in-
cluding the Right Honourable Edward Smith Stanley, M.P., and
Orange Under-Secretary for Ireland in 1833, would have supposed
that by the suppression and amalgamation of certain useless
Protestant Bishoprics in Ireland, he and his Tory compeers, were
evoking a spirit in certain quiet college precincts in Oriel and
Merton Lanes, and thereabouts, which was so soon to rend their
old garments with new patches, and burst their old bottles with
new wine ; a spirit as subtle as it is potent, a discerner of the
thoughts and intents of so many hearts, past, present, and to
come?

Space warns me to say but a very few words on some remain-
ing topics, of which the first shall be the martyrdoms and
sufferings of our Catholic forefathers. If we reflect merely on
the undoubted fact that, as was said of old, ''the blood of
martyrs is the seed cf the Church,'' it would seem that our land

I

National Return to the Faith. 213

which was so copiously watered with that fecundating dew, would
certainly some day reap a great harvest from it; but I venture
to think that a circumstance connected with the great majority
of these martyrdoms gives us a special ground for hoping that
this harvest of conversion would take a national or political form.
I mean the circumstance that almost all the Elizabethan martyrs,
and those of the succeeding reigns also, seem to have been
inspired to express in their last moments ardent feelings of loyal
adherence to the civil power which was so cruelly misused. No
doubt this was a protest on their part against the false account
which the persecutors tried to give of the cause of their sufferings,
Tliey were alleged to be traitors and to be suffering as such, and
not as martyrs to the old faith, and so they loudly protested that
this was a calumny, as indeed it was ; but I look on it also as
the registration before God and man of their willingness to suffer
if their blood might by Him be accepted as crying from English
ground for the conversion of the nation and polity in whose
name and by whose ruler this v/rong was being inflicted on them.
7. Next, as to conversions to the faith at the present time,
I would remark that I am not disposed to think the number of
conversions which we know are occurring at the present time, is
such as to constitute a great ground of hope of the national
return, merely from the point of view of number. Though
absolutely considerable, relatively speaking to the whole popula-
tion of the country, the number is but small ; yet here again
there is a circumstance not without significance. A " nation ''' is
not constituted by a mere mob or aggregation of people without
organization or ordered common life. To make the nation there
must be a government, and whatever form it takes must be the
result of the adhesion of the great moral corporation whicb
embody the primary ideas and functions of civil order. Property,
education, law, reliu^ion, legislation and administration, relations
with other nations, and the means of repelling force by force,
represent the chief characteristic interests of a civilized people,
and find their expression in the great moral bodies or mem-
bers of the State. If conversions not relatively numerous were
confined to one or other only of these moral corporations, no doubt
there would be so far no room for hopeful anticipations as to a
national return to the faith; but if, on the other hand, such
conversions, though few, were distributed through the whole of
these interests or corporations, and form a group, as it were, of
specimens of each and all, they put on another character and
give just cause for other inferences. S. Thomas teaches that the
test of a genuine national adhesion to, or rejection of, a given
government, is not the test of mere numbers, but that of the
mind of the great constituent moral members of the State.

214 On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

Hence the existence of Catholics who are so, not by what is
called the accident of birth, but by conviction and at the price
of sacrifice have become Catholics, in any proportion in each of
these members, is pro fanto an argument for the possible return
of the whole. Now which of our classes in the hierarchy of
civil order is quite free from the return of " Popery " ? Neither
the senate nor the house of knights and burgesses returned by
shire or city or borough to Parliament, nor the established
Church, nor the Universities, nor the bar and magistrature, nor
the colleges of physicians, nor the army, nor the navy, nor the
diplomatic service, nor any other branch of the public adminis-
tration— all and each have paid and are paying Peter's pence in
Jcind — the souls which his net is ever ready to gather out of the
deep. It has been objected that, as some one put it, we have
converted "Scottish duchesses but no English grocers," that
is, that the middle and lower classes afford no contingent of con-
versions in proportion to their numbers. I grant it is so at
present; but, on the other hand, I see that with a great show of
independence, there are no people so accessible to aristocratic
influence as the English, and no society in which a perpetual
and wide process of natural selection from the lower strata goes
.on so constantly and rapidly. I see it in the past and I see
more of it in the future. Thread your way through the carriages of
the great to Mrs. Metals' afternoons in Park Lane, and you.may
see not one but many besides herself, whose genealogy is, if not
forgotten yet forgiven, not only for their wealth's sake but for
that of their real culture and refinement. They are recruits of
the classes who recruit us, and their roots reach low down.
Moreover, if it is true that hitherto these conversions are found
only in the upper strata of our society, and as yet no signs appear
of a mass movement — surely we must not forget that it was
from above, from the noble and wealthy, that the ruin and decay
of faith began, and unless (which is not alleged) our race and
nation are completely changed in the last three centuries, it is by
an analogous process that they are likely to be restored. Besides,
it is not true that our converts are not only personally typical
and representative, but also for the most part influential, so that
scarcely one but can trace to his or her influence the further
result of one or more other conversions to the faith. I say "her"
because the influence of mothers is so wide and so enduring, and
the proportion of female converts is said by our adversaries to be
unduly large. I trust, and I thank God, that such is indeed
the case.

8. Next I would mention as a ground for hopes of a national
return the instincts of the faithful in all countries. It is a well
known maxim of the spiritual writers that when God wills to

National Return to the Faith. 215

bestow a grace He prompts holy people to ask it of Him by
ardent and persistent prayer and mortification. I am not now-
speaking so much of that more external leading whereby He
causes His elect to repay services rendered to Him by intercession ;
of this we all know many instances have been afforded by the
devout cloistered and uncloistered souls in France, who repaid,
and are still repaying, the hospitality of England during the
Revolution by ardent prayer for her conversion — I mean rather to
allude to those instances, of which the number is no doubt great
though to us unknown, of holy men and women who had no
personal knowledge or connection with our country, but yet were
moved to pray all their life long for her return, such as were in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the holy nun, Maria
Escobar, and the saintly lady Theresa de Carvajal in Spain, or in
the last century Saint Paul of the Cross in Italy. Similarly I
would refer to the instincts of the Holy See in such acts as the
erection of the Hierarchy in 1850; or, again, in the nomination,
unparalleled in all history, of three Englishmen to the Cardinalate
at one time, and of no less than eight English-speaking Cardinals
within our own memory. Whence are these promptings, and
what can be the meaning of them ?

Let me advert here to the objection urged from the present
aspect of a very large section of the community who form what
is called the extreme High Church, or Ritualist School of
Anglicans. I grant that they present an aspect of apparently
increasing hostility to the Catholic Church which is at first dis-
couraging to our hopes, raised as they were some quarter of a
century ago to a high pitch by the early results of the Tractarian
movement; but, once more, the miraculous apart, how is it
conceivable that the frozen soil, hardened by three centuries of
neglect and error, should break forth into one vast garden of
fruits and flowers in the course of less than one half-century of
partial and uncertain thaw ? To expect this seems to me to
mistake the whole teaching of our history, and to substitute for
the warranted and sober inference from facts, a heated, fanciful
theory which it is as easy to demolish as it was pleasant to build
up. If there is one truth which I seem to see broadly written
on the past Reformation history of our religion and country it is
this — that the wisdom and goodness of God are as conspicuous
in regard to us as are His justice and chastisement and judgments
for our national sins ; and that in nothing are the former more
evident than in the Divine attribute o^ patience as shown in the
long waiting for us, both individually and collectively, to return
to Him. No one alleges, either that the Almighty is bound to bring
back our nation by miracle, or that He is actually doing it by that
means. Now, whatever may be the destiny of individual souls

216 On some Reasons for not Desj^airing of a

(of which we know nothing) _, it is certain that if a large number
of the Ritualists, say some thousands, were at once to submit to
the Church, the movement,, whatever its final results may now be,
would in that case, humanly speaking, end ; for no conscientious
adherent oF Anjjlicanism would continue in a course which would
thus have been demonstrated to lead directly to Rome. I believe
that the hope of a national return is, on the contrary, wrapped up
in a gradual, almost insensible, extension to the whole people of
a knowledge of Catholic doctrine, so that when the hour of God's
decree is come, and the conditions required are ready, they may
yield themselves to the impulse of His illuminating and fostering
grace, and that this extension can only be effected, as it is now-
being effected, by the instrumentality of causes operating for the
most part and at present^ outside the visible corporation of His
Church.

9. And here let me call your attention to the fact, which I think
is evident, that the direct influence of the Visible Church in
England is remarkably absent in the various movements
(especially those of a preparatory kind) on which we have
touched. Even in the case of the emigres it does not appear
that they w^ere what is called " proselytizers ;" they contented
themselves with letting the light of a fameless example shine
before men, and they conquered, where they conquered at all,
more by endurance of contradiction and outrage than by aggres-
sive or demonstrative act or speech. I heard but the other day
of an instance, in the person of a poor eTYiigre priest who, being
recognized by three fanatical youths as a foreigner and Papist,
was by them actually put to death by drowning in the Thames,
near Reading. As he disappeared beneath the waters, he raised
his hands to Heaven and audibly prayed that God would not let
his murderers die without knowing the truth. Two of them died
soon after; but the third, to the amazement of his relations,
insisted on seeing a priest on his death-bed, and then narrated to
him these facts, and implored to be instructed in the Catholic
faith, stating that the remembrance of his victim's meek end and
prayer had never left him; and accordingly he was able to make
his abjuration^ and died' a Catholic, and in the best dispositions.
Other such instances may be known, but as a rule it is true to
say, that all the modern conversions are owing to the immediate
operation of the Holy Ghost on minds and souls, and that we
have had but little or no direct impression made upon us by the
Catholic Church in England. It would seem as if no person or
persons w^ere to be wholly credited with a work so eminently that
of God's Holy Spirit. I do not overlook certain great names,
chiefly of converts, who have had a direct influence on others,
which must be in all our minds as exceptions to this statement :

National Return to the Faith. 217

I only say tliey are exceptions, and that the usual mode of God's
later dealings with this nation, has been like the building of a
house not made with hands : and further, that I see in this mode
itselfj a ground of wider hopes, and greater confidence.

But to sum up. I have mentioned, I think, nine several
grounds for entertaining a reasonable, if sanguine, hope of our
being as a nation restored to the faith. 1. There is the upward
tendency of official Anglicanism as a system, and as a history for
the first epoch of its lapse. 2. There is the present marked in-
crease of religious observance throughout the land, as contrasted
with all previous times since the so-called Reformation. 3.
There are the irregular but earnest religious movements of the
last century. 4. There is the literary rehabilitation of the
Christian and mediaeval idea by our romantic poets. 5. There is
the consequence of the French and Irish migrations into England.
6. The profuse martyrdoms and other sufferings for the faith,
and their special character as State prosecutions. 7. The typical
and influential character of the conversions of the latter years.
8. The instincts of the Church in prayer, and of the Holy See
in provision, for a national conversion'. 9. The absence of direct
Catholic influence in most of the modern conversions, on the
nation. Now I am not conscious of exaggerating the impor-
tance of these topics, but, of course, they are not all of equal
importance, and I can quite understand that to some minds
some will seem to have little or no weight. What, however,
I conceive to be of weight is their collective force. For
instance, take the direction of cumulation. The first five con-
siderations seem to have this force visibly impressed on them as
a series or whole. If Anglicanism had an upward tendency, it
is not possible to disconnect it from an increase of religious
observance as a fruit thereof: if that fruit exists it has an antece-
dent history which is supplied by the religious movements of the
last century and of this, and if they later took that form of a
reaction favourable ta Catholic ideas which they now present, that
reaction was rendered possible by the revival of the mediaeval
ideas in literature, and by the accidents of the French and Irish
immigrations at the same time. Then, again, looking to the
Tiatural connection of cause and effect, we are struck by seeing
an absence of such a connection in most of the subjects men-
tioned : a bloody persecution of the Church and an infidel
philosophy in one country, and a corrupt Protestant ascendancy
in another, do not seem likely a iwiori to conduce to the advance
of Catholicity in a third. Nor, again, would it seem probable
that the first harbingers of a return on the part of many to truer
and juster, and therefore kinder, thoughts of the Church, her
ministers, her doctrines, and her practices, should be found in

21 S On some Reasons for not Despairing of a

the persons of a learned Protestant_, a dreamy Germanized
metaphysician, and a Scottish Presbyterian lawyer. Napoleon
the First is said to have exclaimed, " Give me the making of a
nation^s songs and you give me the nation/' Our lake poets and
Scottish novelists wrote our songs, and they turned out to be
Catholic psalms, though they v/ere written by the waters of
-Babylon. So again the recrudescence of Calvinistic fanaticism
in the last age and in this, outside and inside the Establishment,
would seem not likely to pave the way for the Oxford movement,
which nevertheless it did. It is this kind of overrulino^ of thiniis
to an end which seems quite foreign to their natural result which
is embodied in so many proverbs like the French ^'lliortime pro-
"pose, mais Dieiu dispose,'^ and which, must be in the experience
of every thoughtful person''s interior consciousness as regards
themselves.

As to my three last topics, they touch on other and higher
grounds of confidence; for every martyrdom was a special grace
of God, not only in the constancy of the martyr, but in each and
all of its circumstances; so is each conversion, and so are the
instincts of the Holy Church of God and of His Vicar. But in all
and through all that I have so feebly attempted to recall to you
I think I see the evidence of a great design — a merciful resolve
in the inscrutable counsels of the Most High to lead us back as
a nation to Him. It would be beside the object of this Paper
were I to allude to the means within our reach for the furthering
of this end ; and, indeed, it may be said that the tendency of my
remarks would be rather to encourage us to stand aside and see
the work of God accomplished by Him without our interven-
tion. My feeling, however, is not such ; for surely that which
is true of the progress of the spiritual life within each soul
is equally true of the aggregate souls of a race or nation
— viz., that whereas we should believe that it is God alone
who can and will convert, and sanctify, and perfect, we
should act as if all depended on our own activity and perse-
verance. Nor can I admit any contradiction or opposition between
the two convictions — that God, who sweetly and strongly dis-
poses all things according to His will, designs the ultimate
conversion of our nation, and that we have our share to perform
in the fulfilment of the same, however subordinate and limited
the sphere of our co-operation. In conclusion, I will say that I
think we must all agree that we can hardly conceive it possible
that we should be destined to a national return without national
humiliation. May it not be that the humiliation lies in this, that
every trace and vestige of our old Catholic polity is destined to
destruction before the new structure is to rise again ? If^ as I
have tried to show, the building up is eminently Divine, the

National Return to the Faith, 219

destruction is eminently human, and, whether in motive or
in result, such as no Catholic can consistently admire or take part
in. It was an opposite course of action — forced, we may admit,
by the circumstances of the time upon Catholics, which tended
as much as anything to impair their influence on the upper classes
of Protestants a generation or two ago. Even forty years ago
Newman could enumerate among the reasons holding back good
Protestants from sj^mpathy with Catholics "as a church, the
spectacle of their intimacy with the revolutionary spirit of the
day" ("Essays," vol. ii. p. 71) . I well remember that feeling, ilnd
I think we must deprecate giving any just cause for it now,
though we may see in the acts of the destroyers just judgments
of God, and the inevitable consequences of a national departure
from His law.

What do we see about us at this moment ? We see a Govern-
ment which has subjected us as a nation to a profound humilia-
tion, by forcing a professed and emphatic atheist and blasphemer
into the national council, and, too probably, the nation accepting
that humiliation. It was in that assembly that the rejection of
Christ^s Vicar and all his authority was made to be thenceforth the
foundation of our national religion and law, three hundred years
ago. We are indeed draining that cup to the dregs ! In one
sense it is the beginning of the end : we can go no lower. May
it be so in another and happier sense 1 Amidst the ruin and
wreck of our institutions, where the Christian character of the
State, nay, even the basis of natural religion is compromised,
and by a necessary consequence the national establishment of
religion, the privileged classes, the landed proprietary, and
hereditary rights, including the Crown and its succession, are
piece-meal destroyed — all of which seems to be now visibly loom-
ing at no great distance in the future — may the right hand of
God once more build up the walls , of Jerusalem, and His light
shine upon the island, sometime of His saints, as in the days of
yore — the days of Alfred and of Edward : " reposita est ha3C spes
in sinu meo ! '^

►J( James, Bishop of Emmaus.

s^SSS**©™-

220 )

Art. IX.— MR. GLADSTONES SECOND LAND BILL.

1. The Land Law (Ireland) Bill. Session of 1881.

2. Report of Her Majesly's Commissioners of Inquiry info

the Working of the Landlord and Tenant (Ireland)
Act, 1870j and the Acts Amending the same. Together
with Minutes of Evidence and Appendices.

3. Preliminary Report fror)i Her Majesty's Commissioners on

Agriculture. Together with Minutes of Evidence.

IT has again fallen to the lot of Mr. Gladstone to make a
great effort for the pacification of Ireland by the re-adjust-
ment of the relations of landlord and tenant in that distracted
country. More than ten years have elapsed since the Land Act
of 1870 came into operation^ and so lately as the spring of last
year its author spoke with pride and satisfaction of the effects
that it had produced. " It gave a confidence/' he said, " to the
cultivator of the soil which he never had before /^ and, after
alluding to the distress in some parts of the country, he con-
tinued :

The cultivation of Ireland had been carried on for the last eight
years under cover and shelter of the Land Law, with a sense of
security on the part of the occupier — with a feeling that he was
sheltered and protected by the law, instead of feeling that he was
persecuted by the law. There was an absence of crime and outrage,
with a general sense of comfort and satisfaction such as was unknown
in the previous history of the country.*

It is not a little remarkable that, before a year had passed,
the great leader of the Liberal party found himself constrained
to reconsider the action of the law which he thus eulogizes, and
to propose to Parliament a measure for the further shelter and
protection of the Irish tenantry. The explanation of this
change of opinion is to be found in the troubled events of the
past year, and its justification in the Reports of the several Com-
missioners which we have placed at the head of this Article.
Even the Conservative majority of the Commissioners on
Agriculture, including the Lukes of Richmond and Ruccleuch,
bear the following testimony to the necessity of again dealing
with the Land Question in Ireland : —

* Mr. Gladstone's Speech to the Edinburgh Liberal Club : TimeSf
April 1, 1880.

Mr. Gladstones Second Land Bill. 221

Bearing in mind the system by which the improvements and equip-
ments of a fiirm are very generally the work of the tenant, and the fact
that the yearly tenant is at any time liable to have his rent raised in
consequence of the increased value that has been given to his holding by
the expenditure of his own capital and labour, the desire for legislative
interference to protect him from an arbitrary increase of rent does not
seem unnatural ; and we are inclined to think that, by the majority of
landowners, legislation, properly framed to accomplish this end, would
not be objected to. With a view of affording such security, " fair
rents," "fixity of tenure," and ^' free sale," popularly known as
the " three F's," have been strongly advocated by many witnesses,
but none have been able to support these propositions in their integrity
without admitting consequences that would, in our opinion, involve an
injustice to the landlord.

The minority Report of the same Commission, and the several
Reports of Lord Bessborough, Baron Dowse, the O'Conor Don,
Mr. Shaw, and Mr. Kavanagh, while they differ as to the form
that legislation should assume, all agree in the expediency of
some check being placed on the power of raising rent in an
arbitrary manner. We may, therefore, summarily dismiss the
objection that no Land Bill is necessary, and pass at once to the
consideration of the proposed measure, and the agricultural con-
dition of the people who hope to be benefited by it.

Mr. Gladstone, in his speech introducing the Bill, on the 7th
of April, spoke of it as "■ the most difficult and complex
question with which, in the course of his public life, he had
ever had to deal/^ and even his marvellous powers of
exposition, and mastery over details, failed to impress the mind
with the conviction that the difficulties had been overcome, or
the complexities simplified. The perusal of the Bill itself
corroborates this conclusion. We miss the clear enunciation of
principle, the courageous recognition of right, the outspoken
message of reform which are absolute essentials of a great and
connected work ; and which are never absent where the evil is
clearly discerned, and mercilessly dealt with. Considering at
present merely the form of the Bill, it leaves the impression of
being the joint product of several minds, taking very different
views of the policy to be adopted. This is probably to be
explained by the necessity of conciliating opposite parties by
concessions scarcely in harmony with the general plan. Not
alone landlords and tenants in Ireland, but the several sections
of the Liberal party, and even, to some extent, the Olympian
Upper Chamber, had to be considered in the drafting of
the Bill; and, in some places, it almost seems as if the im-
possibility of pleasing all sides compelled the draftsman to
take refuge in deliberate obscurity. Ambiguity of language

323 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

and occasional inconsistencies add considerably to the intrinsic
difficulty of the subject. The multitude of provisoes and con-
ditions is perfectly bewildering. It resembles more a Treaty of
Peace than an Act of Parliament. Free sale is conferred, and
immediately a procession of sub-clauses takes back the gift.
Fair rent is defined, and the definition is forthwith qualified by
repugnant and incomprehensible explanations. Fixity of
tenure is flaunted before the eyes of the tenant, while ejectment
for breach of statutory conditions is whispered in the ear of the
landlord. In fact, it is throughout a legislative illustration of
the fable in which the cow yields an ample store of milk, but
invariably ends by kicking over the pail. Some defects may,
of course, be supplied in Committee ; but, as a general rule, the
effect of the piecemeal consideration that measures receive in
that stage is to increase rather than to diminish their com-
plexity.

Before proceeding to discuss — we will not say the principles,
but the contents of the Bill, it is of the first importance that
we should sketch in dispassionate outline the real state of the
case between landlord and tenant, so as to bring to the attention
of our readers the points in which reform is required ; and we
shall then be in a position to appreciate what is effected by the
measure, and to determine whether it ought to satisfy the
legitimate aspirations of the tenant.

The difficulty of forming an impartial judgment is, we must
admit, greatly enhanced at the present moment by the condition
of the country, and the remark obviously applies with additional
force to the difficulty of legislation. No one dreams of laying
down rules of diet and hygiene for a patient in the delirium of
fever, or the prostration of early convalesence ; yet this is
practically what the legislature is called upon to do in the case
of Ireland. We trust that the political excitement, the revolt
against law, the social disorder, may pass away with time ; but
the effects of legislation must necessarily be permanent, whether
for good or evil.

It cannot be repeated too often that the land question in
Ireland is far more a social than a legislative problem. The
relations of landlord and tenant, depending rather on status
than on contract or tenure, are interwoven with the whole
structure of society to such an extent, that an alteration of the
legal conditions may produce unexpected and startling results.
This must always be the case where agriculture is the only
available outlet for the energies of the population, and where
land acquires in consequence an artificial and factitious value.
We may exemplify this by referring to what occurred on th
passing of the Incumbered Estates Act in 1848. The acknow

Mr, Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 223

ledged evil then was an insolvent proprietary — the desideratum,
the attraction of capital. The measure produced the effects
that were anticipated and desired. Capital flowed in, and
land, to the value of more than £50,000,000 has been sold
by the Court, The insolvent owners of large estates were re-
placed by many small capitalists. But beyond this the legis-
lature had not looked; if they could have foreseen the evils that
resulted they would probably have paused. The purchasers,
having expended their money in land speculation, naturally
looked for a profitable return ; they were unfettered by ties of
sympathy with the occupiers, and the result was the establisli-
inent of the commercial spirit. Nothing more disastrous could
have been devised by the ingenuity of demons. The influx of
capital; instead of benefiting the cultivation of the soil, merely
satisfied the cravings of creditors and incumbrancers, and trans-
ferred the peasantry to the serfdom of new masters. This is
what the Bessborough Commission writes on the subject : —

Most of the purchasers were ignorant of the traditions of the soil —
many of them v/ere destitute of sympathy for the historic condition of
things. Some purchased land merely as an investment for capital,
and with the purpose — a legitimate one so far as their knowledge ex-
tended— of making all the money they could out of the tenants by
treating with them on a purely commercial footing. A semi-authori-
tative encouragement was given to this view of their bargains by the
note which it was customary to insert in advertisements of sales under
the Court — " The rental is capable of considerable increase on the
falling in of leases."

The unexpected results of the Land Act of 1870 also illus-
trate the same position. Although it was carefully disguised,
and frequently denied, the tenant acquired under that Act a
something which he did not possess before. What was the
social result? The banks and money-lenders were not slow to
discover that the tenant had an available security to offer, and
accordingly supplied his improvidence with loans at exorbi-
tant interest. Three or four abundant harvests in succession
deluded all parties into the belief that prosperity was perma-
nent, and when the cycle of bad seasons returned, no corn had
been gathered into the barns, no provision made for the time of
scarcity, the inflated credit collapsed, the banks and money-
lenders pressed for payment, and the farmers discovered too
late that they had been living on their capital.

It was more especially in Ulster, where the conditions of land
tenure differ from those prevailing in the rest of Ireland, that
the social operation of the Land Act was unsatisfactory. What
is popularly known as the Ulster Custom was legalized by that
Act; but the attempt to give it the force of law destroyed in

224 3Ir. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

many cases its beneficent operation. Before the Act the Custom
worked well, because it rested on public opinion and mutual
good-will. The landlord refrained from raising the rent so as to
destroy the selling value of the tenant-right ; and the tenant, on
the other hand, submitted cheerfully to the "office rules,'"' which
limited the price which he should receive for his interest. But
the passing of the Land Act changed all this. The landlord
found that what he had permitted through indulgence, was then
demanded as of right ; and in return acted up to the limits of
the law. He raised the rent on every transfer of the holding, so
as to keep the tenant-right within reasonable bounds. The
amicable relations which had previously subsisted were seriously
impaired, and what seemed a boon to the tenant turned out to
be a disturbance of the social equilibrium. In these instances
which we have adduced the introduction of capital was neutral-
ized by the loss of the sympathetic, but impoverished, landlord :
the gift of tenant-right was prodigally lavished on the usurer,
and the attempt to transform custom into law proved that the
dealings of men are more likely to be harmonious when con-
ducted on the voluntary principle than when they are restrained
by legislative interference.

It must be conceded that in asserting the Irish land question
to be a social rather than a legal problem, we are removing
hope to an indefinite distance ; for, if a law is harsh and unjust,
it may be repealed ; but, if society contains elements of discord,
they can only be removed by the slow growth of time. How can
we resist, however, the conclusion that the present laws relating
to land furnish only an insignificant factor in Irish misery and
discontent, when we consider that very similar laws operating in
England are accompanied by peace and prosperity ? Indeed
the law is, in some respects, more favourable to the tenant in
Ireland than in England. The Duke of Richmond's Com-
mission reports that the Land Act '^ offers to tenant-farmers and
cottiers in Ireland, as compared with those in England and
Scotland, exceptional privileges of occupation ■/' and the report
of the O'Conor Don contains the following recognition of the
same fact : —

So fiir as the mere occupation of land is concerned, I do not know
that the position of affairs is worse in Ireland than in other countries ;
on the contrary, I believe it would be found that, regarding the occu-
pier as a mere hirer of land, his legal rights are superior, and his
security greater, than in most other countries in Europe ; whilst his
practical rights — those recognised by the majority of landlords, and
enjoyed by the majority of tenants — are in excess of the rights or the
security ordinarily given elsewhere.

The paradox that the Irish tenant is thus exceptionally

Mr. Gladstones Second Land Bill. 225

favoured, and is yet represented as a martyr to the injustice of
the landlord class, is only to be explained by looking beyond
the statute-book into the actual conditions of Irish tenancy.
The occupier of the soil has never in Ireland regarded his
position as what the law defined it to be. The tenant-at-will
looked on eviction as an outrage : and the leaseholder, on
the expiration of his lease, was rarely called on to surrender
his farm. This view received the sanction of public opinion,
and was generally acquiesced in by the landlords. Custom, in
fact, regulated the tenure and occupation of land — law was
a superior power occasionally called in to get rid of the tenant ;
but the assertion of the legal right of eviction has always been
condemned as an extremely harsh measure.

The Irish tenant always considers himself as the owner of
his farm, speaking invariably of " TYiy land,^' while the rent,
and the rent alone, is the landlord's due. This must be care-
fully borne in mind in considering the question of tenants'
improvements ; for, by the law of Ireland as it existed until
1870, as by the law of England to the present day, if a tenant
chose to build, knowing that he had but a limited interest,
the landlord could resume the occupation of the farm
without paying compensation for the money thus rashly ex-
pended. It is matter of every- day occurrence in England for
the landlord to acquire a vastly improved property on the ex-
piration of building leases. The almost fabulous fortunes of
some English dukes have received enormous accessions from
windfalls of this kind, yet the lessees of houses in Portland
Place or Belgrave Square do not complain of confiscation at
the inconvenient period when the ninety-nine years come to
an end. But the circumstances under which the Irish tenant
expends his money and labour on his holding are completely
different. In the first place, he lias, as a general rule, no lease
for a long term, but instead, the implied right of perpetual
occupancy. Secondly, the landlord acquiesces in this mode of
dealing, and it would be inequitable for him to stand by until
the improvements had been effected, and then to seize them
under colour of law. And lastly, the nature of the tenant's im-
provements is very frequently such that they are absolutely indis-
pensable for the proper cultivation and occupation of the farm.
Now, is it the fact that in Ireland the greater part of the im-
provements have been made by the tenants ? The answer is
not doubtful ; and we shall take it from the Reports of the
Commissioners : —

A.S a fact, the removal of masses of rock and stone, which in some
parts of Ireland incumber the soil, the drainage of the land, and the
erection of buildings, including their own dwellings, have generally

VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.] Q

S26 . Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

been effected by tenants' labour, unassisted, or only in some instances
assisted, by advances from the landlord.*

It seems to be generally admitted that the most conspicuous
difference between the relations of landlord and tenant as they exist in
Ireland, and in England and Scotland, is the extent to which in Ireland
buildings are erected and improvements are made by the tenant and
not by the landlord. f

In a country like Ireland, where the dwelling houses, farm build-
ings, and other elements of a farm, including often the reclamation
from the waste of the cultivated land itself, have been, and must, in
our opinion, continue to be for the most part the work of the tenants ;
this condition of things (raising rents) has created injustice in the past,
and is fatal to the progress so much needed for the future. J

Still more explicit information is furnished by a table that
has been recently published by the Land Committee ; and, as
it is based on returns obtained from landowners, we may trust
it not to understate the case in their behalf. The information
is derived from 1,629 estates, comprising- upwards of 6,000,000
acres, and may therefore be accepted as fairly representative of
the agricultural condition of the country. On 11*01 per cent,
of this large number of acres the improvements have been
made entirely at the landlords' expense ; on 26-62 per cent,
they have been made entirely by the tenant ; and on 62*37
per cent, partly by the landlord and partly by the tenant.
These figures are in the nature of an admission; and they
certainly place in a striking light the prevailing custom of
tenants' improvements, since they can only boast of about
one-tenth being the work of the landlord alone.

The Land Act of 1870 first recognized the equitable right of
the outgoing tenant to compensation for the improvements
and reclamations that he had made ; and it seems to us, looking
at the question with impartial judgment, and by the light that
has been thrown upon it by full discussion, a matter at once
humiliating and astounding that so just a contention was so
long resisted.

The value of a tenant's improvements is only one element in
the calculation of tenant-right. There is yet another, which, if
not so obvious, is quite as practical. Suppose the case of a
farm occupied for years by the same tenant, without any
material improvements having been effected. Has he, or ought
he to have, any tenant-right ? By the written law the landlord
has the power of turning him out, but by the prevailing custom
he is entitled to remain so long as he pays his rent. This

* "Bessborough," par. 10. t "Richmond," p. 5.

X Separate Report of the minority of the Commissioners on Agri-
culture, generally referred to as " Lord Carlingford's Report," p, 20.

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill, 227

practical fact of continuous occupation must be recognised. It
is not the case of hiring a piece of land to make a greater or less
pecuniary profit; the possession of a farm in Ireland means
subsistence, if not comfort. It is as much an assured position,
won in the battle of crowded life, as when a barrister or phy-
sician succeeds in establishing a practice. In a country where
the only resource of the great majority is the cultivation of the
soil, the actual possession of land is a valuable inheritance.
Regarding the question from another point of view, it seems,
at first sight, somewhat hard that a landowner cannot part with
the possession of ten or twenty acres of land without creating
rights that were never contemplated by the parties, and giving
occasion for claims more or less destructive of his rights of
property. Such cases are, however, exceptional. In the vast
majority of lettings the land has never been in the occupation
of the owner as a farmer on his own account; and we may
therefore treat the case that has been suggested as occurring so
seldom as to constitute only a theoretical grievance.

The Land Act endeavoured, by imposing a fine on the
capricious eviction of a tenant, to prevent the evils that
result from arbitrary disturbance. Now, the principle involved
in this enactment is precisely what we have endeavoured to ex-
plain as the second element of tenant-right — the expectancy
of continued occupation arising from the custom, and the cir-
cumstances of the country. Although the fine has not been
heavy enough to secure, in all cases, the tenant from eviction,
yet it cannot be ignored in calculating his practical interest in
his farm.

It is not unusual to speak and write of Ireland as if through-
out its entire area it was homogeneous in misery, and uniform
in its system of land tenure. Nothing can be farther from the
truth, and no mistake could be more mischievous. There is
scarcely any country in which greater differences can be found
than prevail in Ireland between the conditions of the tenants in
different provinces, and even on different estates; and this
variety adds considerably to the difficulty of legislating effectively
for the more distressed classes. We may roughly divide the
country into three parts with reference to the circumstances of
agricultural holdings. (1) The Province of Ulster, where the
custom of tenant-right has long prevailed, and is now recognized
by law ; (2) the larger part of Leinster, especially the counties of
the Pale, where the English system is partly in vogue; and (3) the
Southern Counties of Leinster and the Provinces of Connaught
and Munster, which are the head-q-uarters of famine, discontent,
improvidence, and outrage. It does not lie within the scope of
this article to trace in detail the conditions of land tenure in

228 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill,

these three divisions ; but we may briefly indicate their principal
peculiarities. The Ulster Custom of tenant-right consists in the
recognized right of sale by an outgoing tenant to the new comer
of his beneficial interest in the farm, subject in general to
certain limitations, varying on difi'erent estates. In some cases
the custom is absolutely uncontrolled, and the landlord is then
but little removed from a mere rent-charger, while the tenant is
the real owner of the fee. The former has no voice in the
selection of his tenant, and is liable to have a worthless and im-
provident rogue foisted on him in that capacity. He cannot
raise the rent, even if the value of land should rise, and he has
to look on with the best grace he can assume, while the tenant
right is sold for fabulous sums. On most estates, however,
there exist Office Kules, so framed as to restrict the tenant-right
within reasonable limits. Under these the landlord generally
possesses a veto as to the purchaser, and some price is fixed,
— three, five, or seven pounds per acre, or a certain number of
years' rent — as the maximum which the incoming tenant is to
be allowed to pay. It is almost unnecessary to mention that
the object of thus limiting the price is to save the landlord's
rent from being encroached on ; for the interest on the capital
sunk as purchase money is as much rent as the half-yearly
payments made to the landlord. We may observe, by the way,
that this principle does not always seem to be steadily borne in
mind, and many persons who are in favour of limiting the
competition re?if, do not seem to recognize the similar necessity
of controlling the com.petition ^nV^ of a tenancy.

So vehement is the desire to obtain land in Ulster, that it
very commonly occurs that, over and above the maximum price
allowed by the Office Rules, a large sum is surreptitiously paid
to the outgoing tenant. One price is agreed on in the presence
of the agent, while another is paid behind his back, and the new
tenant enters on the cultivation of his farm with crippled
resources, if not deeply in debt.

It is a curious circumstance that the origin of the Ulster
Tenant- Right is involved in considerable obscurity. Accord-
ing to some authorities, its establishment dates from the
plantation of that part of the kingdom by James I., when
the grants to settlers contained a condition to give *^ certain
estates to their tenants at certain rents •/' while others,
including Judge Longfield, consider that it rapidly assumed
its present form in the last decade of the last century.
The advantages of the custom are that it confers prac-
tical fixity of tenure, secures to the landlord the payment
of all arrears of rent on a change of tenancy, and gives the
tenant such an interest in his farm as stimulates his energies by

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 229

the sense of ovvnersliip. On the other hand it is not without
drawbacks. The tenant requires a double capital — the price
payable for the tenant-right, and the money necessary for work-
ing the farm. His solvency is diminished, and the temptation
to borrow on improvident terms is almost irresistible. If a
man fails he certainly has the price of his tenant-right to fall
back on ; but he has to give up his farm and disappear into
space. Lastly, the vagueness of the custom, which is a sort of
equilibrium between the two conflicting forces — rent-raising by
the landlord, and sale by the tenant — throws us back in the end
on mutual understanding and harmonious relations between the
parties.

We have dwelt at some length on the peculiarities of the
Ulster usages, because that Province is generally pointed to as
the beau ideal of what Ireland ought to be, and it has even
been suggested that the custom should be extended by statute
to the rest of Ireland. It would be of course possible to create
a Parliamentary tenure resembling the Ulster Custom in its
essential features ; but we must remember that in Ulster itself
the usages are so various in different places as to deprive the
expression, " Ulster Custom,^' of all precise and definite mean-
ing ; and, further, it does not come within the power even of
an Act of Parliament, to create, on the instant, friendly feelings
between embittered foes.

The second agricultural division of Ireland — that in which, to
a certain extent, the English mode of farming prevails — requires
scarcely any notice ; since there the practice of farmers har-
monizes with the principles of law. Status does not control
contract, or regulate the terms of occupancy. As a rule the
tenant has taken the land with the " improvements '' already
made ; and, if he has a lease, he is ready to surrender possession
at the expiration of his term. The landlord has furnished the
farm as a " going concern ;' and the fiirst principles of hiring
an article for use apply in such cases, to the exclusion of
artificial doctrines of partnership between landlord and tenant.
It is certainly rather hard on landlords who have done
everything which the majority neglect, to be subjected to
a uniform system of legislation with their needy and grasping
brethren. It is impossible, however, to separate one class from
the other ; for, although we have referred to one Province as
peculiarly the land of English farming, yet even there the
practice is by no means universal, and in other parts of Ireland
exceptional cases exist in which everything that can be done for
the benefit of their tenants, and the improvement of their farms,
has been effected by the beneficent owners.

If we turn from the two Provinces whose condition we have

230 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill,

attempted to describe, to the remaining moiety of the island, a
miserable and dispiriting spectacle presents itself. It is there,
in Connaught and Munster, that the Irish Land Question starts
forward in ghastly prominence. A state of things exists in
some parts of those Provinces — for even there, fortunately, we
find degrees of misery — that shames our boasted civilization.
The dwellings of the people are often not fit for the beasts of
the field, their food barely sufficient for subsistence, their
clothing for decency. The land, from which in wretchedly
small plots they strive to extract the means of living, is a barren
and unfruitful soil, half-reclaimed bog and stony waste. Their
agriculture, it is needless to say, is of the most primitive order ;
and their husbandry is confined to the simple operations of
planting and digging their potatoes. They eke out the scanty
produce of their miserable holdings by migrating to England
and Scotland, where they work as harvest labourers, at wages
that must seem to them splendid remuneration. These they
carefully hoard, and bring back to pay their rents and supply
their needs for the rest of the year.

The various Commissioners have not ignored the position of
these farmers of the West, who furnish one of the most anxious
and difficult problems that it is possible to imagine. The
majority Report of the Duke of Richmond's Commission, refer
to them in the following terms : —

"With reference to the very small holders in the Western districts
of Ireland, we are satisfied that with the slightest failure of their crops
they would be unable to exist upon the produce of their farms, even
if they paid no rent. Many of them plant their potatoes, cut their
turf, go to Great Britain to earn money, return home to dig their
roots and to stack their fuel, and pass the winter, often without occu-
pation, in most miserable hovels.

And the Report of Lord Bessborough's Commission is not
couched in more hopeful language : —

The condition, it says, of the poorer tenants in numerous parts of
Ireland, where it is said they are not able, if they had their land gratis,
to live by cultivating it, is by some thought to be an almost insoluble
problem.

Professor Baldwin, in his evidence before the Richmond Com-
mission, states that there are at least 100,000 farms too small
for the support of the occupiers, and that it is absolutely neces-
sary to " lift'' 50,000 families, that is to say, to give them the
alternative of migrating or emigrating. W' e must not dwell at
too great length on the actual condition of the Irish tenantry,
for our principal object in this article is to give some account
of the Land Bill which has been presented to Parliament; but

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 231

it would have been impossible to deal with that subject in a
satisfactory manner without having tirst described the status
of the tenants in the several parts of the country, upon whose
interests the Bill is intended chiefly to operate. This we have
endeavoured to do, and have shown that there exists considerable
diversity in the positions of tenant-farmers in the different Pro-
vinces— a complication which enhances tenfold the difficulty in
the way of legislation.

There is one other subject to be considered, and one question
to be answered, before we pass to the consideration of the Bill.
We must know precisely what the evil is that is now to be re-
dressed, and ask the tenant-farmer, "What is it that you
desire ?'' We once more obtain our information, and receive
an answer to the interrogatory from the Reports of the Com-
missioners. In the words of Mr, Kavanagh (" Report/' p. 55)
" the question of rent is at the bottom of every other, and is
really, whether in the North or South, the gist of the grievances
which have caused much of the present dissatisfaction.^' Pro-
fessor Bon amy Price, who was rather roughly handled by Mr.
Gladstone for his adherence to the abstract principles of Political
Economy, has to admit that " great abuses have occurred in
violent and unreasonable raisings of rent by some landowners."
The Report of Lord Carlingford, and the minority of the Rich-
mond Commission who sided with him, contains the following •
passage ; —

We have had strong evidence, both from our Assistant Commis-
sioners, Professor Baldwin and Major Robertson, and from private
witnesses, that the practice of raising rents at short and uncertain in-
tervals prevails to an extent fully sufficient to shake the confidence of
the tenants, and to deter them from applying due industry and outlay
to the improvement of their farms. ,

We might easily multiply quotations from the Reports and
evidence, all tending to the same conclusion, but we will content
ourselves with one more taken from the 19th paragraph of the
" Bessborough " Report. After alluding to the advantages con-
ferred on the tenants by the Land Act, it continues : —

It has, however, failed to afford them adequate security, particu-
larly in protecting them against occasional and unreasonable increases
of rent. The weight of evidence proves, indeed, that the larger estates
are, in general, considerately managed ; but that on some estates, and
particularly on some recently acquired, rents have been raised, both
before and since the Land Act, to an excessive degree, not only as
compared with the value of land, but even so as to absorb the profit of
the tenant's own improvements. This process has gone far to destroy
the tenant's legitimate interest in his holding. In Ulster, in some cases, it

232 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

has almost '' eaten up " the tenant right. Elsewhere, where there is
no tenant right, the feeling of insecurity produced by the raising of
rent has had a similar effect.

We are now in a position to assert that the chief, if not the only,
grievance from which the Irish tenant suffers, is the liability to
have his rent unfairly raised, and, in default of payment, to be
ejected without compensation. His legitimate demand is, Give
me security against the imposition of an unfair rent, and against
capricious eviction. Considering that freedom of contract in
respect of land cannot be said to exist in Ireland, this demand
does not seem unreasonable, and accordingly the several Reports
are unanimous in recommending the fixing of rents by some
independent authority.

It might seem probable to persons reading the foregoing
extracts, that the Commissioners would proceed to condemn the
greed and rapacity of Irish landlords, in taking advantage of the
dependent position of their tenants for the purpose of unduly
raising their rents ; but nothing of the kind ! On the contrary,
the Bessborough Commission says that " the credit is indeed
due to Irish landlords, as a class, of not exacting all that they
were by law entitled to exact,'^ and Lord Carlingford bears
testimony that '^upon many, and especially the larger estates,
the rents are moderate and seldom raised, and the improve-
ments of the tenants are respected." The other Commissioners
adopt similar opinions, and even Mr. Gladstone declared, empha-
tically, that the landlords of Ireland '^ have stood their trial, and
they have been as a rule acquitted."

Now, the plain meaning of all this is that, though the land-
lords have, as a body, behaved well, yet there have been found
some black sheep amongst them. One instance of unfair rent-
raising, one harsh case of eviction, spreads like wildfire through
a whole Barony, shakes public confidence, and annihilates the
sense of security which it may have taken years to establish. It
is unsafe, according to Mill, to ignore the influence of imagina-
tion, even in Political Economy ; and if the conclusions of the
Commissioners are correct, imagination is working awful havoc
with the condition of Ireland. The fear of an increase of rent,
and the consequential eviction, generates a sense of insecurity,
which paralyzes the naturally active energies of the tenant, and
produces '' a general feebleness of industry and backwardness of
agriculture." This dark cloud, impressing his imagination with
the dread of coming misfortune, ought to be dissipated at any
cost. The landlord must be prevented from indefinitely ^' screw-
ing up " the rent, and the occupying tenant must be protected
from his own desires.

Mr. Gladstone justifies " searching and comprehensive legisla-
tion" for Ireland by three reasons : — (1) The existence of

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill, 233

« land-hunger.'^ (2) The failure of the Act of 1870, or, as he
prefers to put it, the " partial success" of that measure. (3)
The harshness of a limited number of landlords. These three
reasons, though grouped together, and insisted on with equal
force by the Premier, are not all equally extensive in their appli-
lication, nor do they all unite to justify the whole of his present
proposals. Thus, it is difficult to understand how " land-hunger"
is to be removed by increasing the attractiveness of occupancy,
and conferring, to a certain extent, the boon of fixity of tenure
on the present holder. We presume, however^ that this " land-
hunger" is to be satisfied by the reclamation of waste lands, and
by removing those whose appetite is strongest to the corn prai-
ries of Manitoba; while the "tenure clauses" of the Bill may be
assumed to be covered by the last two of his reasons. It may be
considered a dangerous proceeding to legislate for a few hard
cases; and, no doubt, an enlightened public opinion, and the
gradual improvement of social relations, would do more to
restrain the unjust exercise of arbitrary power, than the vain
and futile attempt to impose countless restrictions on freedom
of contract. It is a remarkable circumstance that Mr. Glad-
stone did not allude to the unsettled state of the country, the
popular disaffection and disloyalty, the resistance to legal pro-
cess, the existence of murder, outrage, and anarchy as potent
reasons for reconsidering the question of land-tenure in Ireland.
He did not repeat his warning, uttered in the debate on the
ill-fated Compensation for Disturbance Bill, that the country
was within " a measurable distance from civil war," possibly
because he thought that the " measurable distance^' had become
infinitesimal. But enough as to the reasons for introducing
fresh legislation ; let us pass to the examination of the measure
itself.

The Bill, which consists of fifty clauses, with numberless sub-
clauses, and even in some cases a further analysis of sub-
clauses into subordinate categories, is divided into seven parts.
The first contains what may be called the Tenure Clauses ; the
second relates to the intervention of the Court ; the third pro-
vides for the exclusion of the Act by the agreement of the
parties ; the fourth supplements in some particulars the three
preceding parts ; the fifth, not very logically, groups together
acquisition of land by the tenants, reclamation of waste, and
emigration ; the sixth deals with the constitution of the Court
and the Land Commission ; and the seventh furnishes a glossary
of terms, an enumeration of excluded tenancies, and rules for
determining when a present is to be considered as becoming a
future tenancy. From this bare outline it will be seen that a
wide range of subjects is treated, some of which might well have
been reserved for fuller development in separate measures.

234 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

That the Bill is not easy reading will be readily taken for
granted^ and the difficulty in understanding some of its pro-
visions is, we must candidly confess, very considerable. We
find " present " and " future tenancies," ^'tenancies to which this
Act applies,''^ " tenancies subject to statutory conditions/'
"judicial leases,'^ and " fixed tenancies/Mntroduced for the first
time as terms of art. And, as the practical rights of the parties
depend on tlie distinctions involved in these expressions, each
clause has to be read microscopically in order to determine the
future conditions of tenure. This is not the form which a
great popular pronouncement should assume. Simplicity is of
the first importance, but we find, instead, a cloud of techni-
calities, 'and scarcely a single clause capable of being safely
interpreted without the assistance of a court of construction.
To furnish occasion for perpetual litigation and acrimonious
controversy is not, in our opinion, any advance towards a settle-
ment of this vexed question ; and, at all events, even if the
substance of the measure be all that could be desired, this
complicated form militates considerably against its chances of
success. We should have preferred the enunciation of a few
general principles, to the overwrought details and cumbrous
scrupulosity of the present Bill. If there is really anything
seriously amiss with the Land Laws of Ireland, it ought to be
possible to set it right in less than twenty-seven folio pages. If
the tenant has, as a matter of fact, an interest in his holding
which the law does not sufficiently protect, by all means let it
be recognized by legislation. If it is desirable to confer upon
him something which he has not hitherto possessed, let it
be granted to him, and compensation paid to those injuriously
affected. But the present measure carefully avoids the respon-
sibility of definition, and merely places landlords and tenants in
a position to commence a ruinous conflict by competition sales,
and litigious proceedings.

The very first clause of the Bill contains the provisions as to
the sale of the tenant^s interest. It is enacted that, " the
tenant for the time being of every tenancy to which this Act
applies may sell his tenancy for the best price that can be got
for the same,^^ subject, however, to the following restrictions : —

(1) The sale is to be made to one person only, unless the
landlord consents. (2) The tenant must give notice to the
landlord of his intention to sell, and thereupon, (3) the landlord
may exercise his right of pre-emption at a price to be settled,
if necessary, by the Court. (4) The landlord may refuse on
reasonable grounds to accept the purchaser as tenant. And
instead of leaving the reasonableness of the landlord's refusal
as an open question for the Court, the clause proceeds to enu-
merate, in somewhat mysterious language, particular examples

M7\ Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 235

of '' reasonable grounds/^* We have, first, " insufficiency of
means, measured with respect to the liabilities of the tenancy/'
Insufficiency of means to pay down the purchase money of the
tenancy would be comprehensible, but the tenancy being '' the
tenant's interest in his holding,^' no liabilities attach to it.
Does "liabilities of the tenancy '^ mean the requirements of
the holding, as farm stock and utensils ; or merely the rent
that is payable in respect thereof ? We really cannot discover
any meaning in this '*' reasonable ground,'^ except — and this is
only the result of guessing — that the purchasing tenant, after
paying his purchase money, must have a clear capital sum suffi-
cient for the working of the farm. The second ground of veto,
" the bad character of the purchaser,^' seems likely to give rise to
much ill-feeling, and to raise delicate questions for the decision of
the Court. The issues to be tried by the chairman will involve
him in a roving inquiry through the purchaser's entire life.
His relatives, his friends and foes, the publican, the priest and
the policeman, may all be called to give material evidence.
And what is " bad character ? " We can recognize extreme
cases, but we find a difficulty in drawing a precise line. To be
consistent, the Bill ought to give a right of ejectment against
all " bad characters," but this it fails to do. Surely a more
ludicrous provision was never inserted in an Act of Parliament.
The next " reasonable ground '' is " the failure of the purchaser
already as a farmer," and the last, '^any other reasonable and
sufficient cause.'' We do not know whether there is any subtle
intention in requiring a ^' cause " to be both reasonable a7id
sufficient in order to furnish a " reasonable ground; " but if so,
it is too refined a distinction to have much practical importance.

In a Declaration on the subject of the Land Bill, signed by
all the Archbishops and Bishops of Ireland — to which we shall
have occasion frequently to refer — it is pointed out that " the
grounds set forth in the Bill on which a landlord may refuse to
admit as tenant the purchaser of a holding — as well as the right
of pre-emption conferred on the landlord — interfere seriously
with the tenant's right of free sale." It is, indeed, clear that
the right of sale conferred by this clause falls very far short of
the free sale which the tenant desires ; and we think that,
instead of a veto, the landlord might rest satisfied with the
power of obtaining from the Court, in proper cases, an injunc-
tion to restrain the sale.

We have always considered that the importance of free sale
was exaggerated ; for what ihe Irish tenant, as a rule, wants, is

* While these sheets were passing- throagh the press, the committee
determined on striking out these limitations of the discretion of the Court;
and as the Bill now stands, what is recommended in the text is prac-
tically enacted.

236 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

not to sell, but to keep his land. A small sum of money is no
compensation to him for the loss of his farm, and the disruption
of old associations. If the tenant possesses, or ought to possess,
any property in his holding, the right of assignment — an in-
separable incident of all property — should certainly be attached
to it. The more straightforward policy for the legislature to
adopt would be, however, to define and declare the right of
property, and allow the right of sale to follow as a matter of
course. But the authors of this Bill shrank from the con-
sequences of enacting that the tenant should be a joint-owner
with his landlord, and preferred to give him a right of selling —
What? Presumably, what is his own to sell, the improvements
that he has made, and his right of continuous occupancy, so far
as it is secured by the fine on capricious eviction, and by the
provisions of this Bill. The power of selling a vague and
indefinable tenant-right seems calculated to introduce a practice
of reckless trafficking in land which cannot but prove injurious to
the interests of the agricultural community. The tenant may sell
for a " fancy'^ price ; the landlord can scarcely treat this as
a reasonable ground for objecting to the purchaser, but if he
accepts the newcomer as tenant, the latter, who is still a
" present tenant/^ may apply to the Court to fix his rent,
" having regard to his interest in the holding," that is to
say, to the exorbitant price which he has recently paid for
the tenant-right. This, we must say, opens up a vista of acri-
monious conflict that seems perfectly endless.

We shall next consider the provisions of the Bill with
reference to the question of " fair rent •/' but, inasmuch as the
" present" tenant occupies in this respect a somewhat favoured
position compared with the tenant of a " future tenancy," we
must first examine the grounds of this distinction, and point
out as accurately as we can the occasions on which a tenancy
changes its tense.

The reason for placing present and future tenants on a different
footing was, no doubt, that the former being in actual occupa-
tion, were not considered as free agents in contracts relating to
the land which they occupied, and in which they had sunk all
their capital, to which they had devoted a life-time of labour,
and which possessed in their eyes a 'pretium affedionis over
and above its actual value. The future tenant, in bargaining
for the possession of a farm, is supposed to be influenced by
none of these motives ; and may, therefore, be trusted to manage
his affairs in a strictly commercial spirit. But after the lapse
of years, where will the difference be? The "present^' and
the " future " tenant will then be occupying adjacent farms
under precisely similar conditions, except such as the law

Mr, Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 237

imports as the privileges of tlie former. Both will then have,
possibly, expended their capital and labour on the land; to both
alike their homes will have become endeared by a thousand
sweet associations, and every argument that can now be adduced
for affording additional protection to the present tenant, will
then apply with equal force to every occupier of the soil. The
Irish Bishops place in the forefront of their Declaration, the
demand that the position of the two classes of tenants shall be
assimilated ; and there is no recommendation contained in that
important document in which we more heartily concur. It
would vastly simplify the complicated scheme of the Bill, and
save the agricultural community of the future from the heart-
burnings attendant on unequal privileges. It must not be
supposed, however, that the expression, '^ present tenancy " is
limited to the persons now actually in occupation of land. It
requires a violent break in the devolution of title to originate a
future tenancy. And the circumstance, that the number of
future tenants will be for some time very limited, renders the
distinction even more invidious. The devisee, the purchaser,
the foreclosing mortgagee, the executor, and the assignee in
bankruptcy of a present tenant, wiU all be, to the end of time,
present tenants ; and it is manifest that the reason that has
been given for distinguishing the two classes does not in any
sense extend to the tenants of a remote future. The only ways
in which future tenancies can come into existence are, first,
when a sale takes place on account of a breach of contract by
the tenant ; and, secondly, when the landlord, having resumed
possession, re-lets the land. But there is the following qualifi-
cation of the latter, namely, that if the landlord exercises his
right of pre-emption under the first clause of the Bill, he is for
fifteen years from the passing of the Act rendered incapable of
creating a "future tenancy.'^ This must be regarded rather as a
discouragement of the landlord's right of pre-emption than as a
provision in favour of existing tenants. The breaches of con-
tract which may give rise, by means of a forced sale, to future
tenancies, are violations of what are called "Statutory Condi-
tions," to which we shall presently refer. It is enough to state
here that they are a somewhat stringent set of covenants that
are to be implied by virtue of the Act in every case where a
statutory term is conferred. If the tenant violates any of these
conditions, for example, does not pay his rent, or sub-lets, he
may be compelled to sell his holding, and the purchaser will
then become a future tenant. This being the way in which the
majority of such tenancies will arise, it is clear that their
increase will be very slow, for these sales will take the place of
ejectments, and will possibly be even less numerous. And at

238 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

the present rate it would take some thousands of years to
exhaust the 600,000 holdings in Ireland. It is safe, however,
to assert that centuries will elapse before the last '^ present
tenant " disappears from the land.

A " fair rent " is assuredly a plausible demand, but unfortu-
nately the word, " fair " has as many different meanings in any
particular transaction as there are human beings engaged in it
with conflicting interests. This is what renders the determina-
tion of a " fair rent " a problem of such exceptional difficulty;
and this it is that has drawn down upon Clause 7, which
attempts the determination of that unknown quantity, a perfect
storm of unfavourable criticism. That it should be allowed to
remain in its present form is not possible ; but what Amend-
ments the Government are prepared to adopt has not yet been
declared. By this Clause every tenant of a " present tenancy'^
— and this is his chief privilege — may apply to the Court to fix
his rent, or, in the exact words of the Bill, '^ to fix what is the
fair rent to be paid.^' If it had stopped there the Clause would
have been complete in itself, an absolute discretion being reposed
in the Chairman. It goes on, however, to define, and perishes
in the attempt. " A fair rent/' it says, '^ means such a rent as
in the opinion of the Court, after hearing the parties and con-
sidering all the circumstances of the case, holding, and district,
a solvent tenant would undertake to pay one year with another."
This definition is also complete in itself, but clashes with the
delegation to the Judge of an unfettered discretion; for we
have here, neither more nor less than the much abused " com-
petition rent," and this certainly differs from the '' fair rent,"
intended by the authors of the Bill. It is also to be noticed
that by the very terms of the Clause, a " solvent " applicant
could never succeed in getting his rent reduced, for it is the
rent which he not only " would undertake," but has undertaken
to pay one year with another. The most extraordinary part of
the Clause is yet to come. We have had a '^ fair " rent and a
*^ competition" rent introduced, and they are not only different
in amount, but they are both capable of being ascertained, the
one depending on the opinion of the Judge, the other being a
question of fact to be ascertained by evidence. That being so,
no amount of " provisoes" or qualifications can logically alter
the one into the other, but that is what Clause 7 now proceeds
to attempt. We shall quote this concluding proviso in full, for
no description could do justice to its drafting.

Provided that the Court, in fixing such rent, shall have regard to
the tenant's interest in the holding, and the tenant's interest shall be
estimated with reference to the following considerations, that is to
say —

Mr, Gladstones Second Land Bill. 239

(a.) In the case of any holding subject to the Ulster Tenant Eight
Custom or to any usage corresponding therewith — with reference to
the said custom or usage ;

(b.) In cases where there is no evidence of any such custom or
ygage — with reference to the scale of compensation for disturbance by
this Act provided (except so far as any circumstances of the case shown
in evidence may justify a variation therefrom), and to the right (if
any) to compensation for improvements effected by the tenant or his
predecessors in title.

A practical man might have little difficulty in determining
what would be a fair rent to pay, or what a solvent tenant as
a fact would undertake to pay ; but, when such a proviso as
this has to be construed, we can anticipate nothing but con-
fusion and uncertainty. We can scarcely conceive so much
obscurity of language arising, except as the fitting medium for
obscurity of thought. If there had been a policy, or a principle,
it would surely have come forth with perfect clearness. We
cannot undertake to solve this legislative conundrum, but we
may indicate a few of the difficulties in the way of solution ;
and, takint^ principle as our guide, we may venture to suggest
what the definition of " fair rent '^ should have been. One of the
most obvious and striking difficulties in the interpretation of
the clause is this : something is manifestly to be deducted from
the full competition rent, because the tenant possesses an
interest in the holding, and it would be unjust that he should
pay rent for what was his own property. The rent, however, is
a periodical payment, the tenant^s property a capitalized sum.
Until the rate of interest is fixed, the problem remains indeter-
minate. What annual deduction is to be made in respect of an
! ascertained capital sum? If we' suppose the case of a tenant
' who has purchased the tenancy applying under this Clause to
have his rent fixed, we must assume that in general his
"interest in the holding'' would be assessed at the purchase
money which he had paid. The deduction from his rent, how-
ever, cannot be made to depend on whether he has borrowed
the money at four, five, or ten per cent.; and if not at the rate
of interest he pays, or if he has provided the purchase money
out of his own resources, how is the rate to be fixed ? This
may appear a trivial point, but it illustrates the vagueness that
pervades the necessary process of calculation. Again, the
tenant's interest is to be estimated with reference " to the
lie of compensation for disturbance.'* That scale, however, is
id on the hypothesis that the tenant is dispossessed ; under
lis Clause he is to continue in occupation ; moreover, that scale
only prescribes certain maximum payments beyond which the
CJourt cannot go, and the circumstances of the eviction have to

240 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

be taken into account in determining tlie compensation to be
paid; but if there is no eviction there are no circumstances
which the Court can regard, and, therefore, no means of esti-
mating, for a totally different purpose, the amount which the
Court would have awarded if there had been a " disturbance."
Lastly, and this objection strikes at the root of the principle of
"compensation for disturbance/' the higher the rent the
greater is the compensation which the landlord has to pay. But
it is manifest that the higher the rent, the less is the balance of
profitable interest belonging to the tenant, and the less the
deduction that should be made from a competition rent in
respect of such interest. A rack-rented tenant who has made
no improvements possesses no real interest in his holding, which
would, or ought to fetch any price under Clause 1 ; yet, if he is
evicted, the compensation which he may receive is larger than
what might be awarded to a man who had a large margin of
profit in the cultivation of his farm. This is comprehensible as
a penal clause against rack-renting landlords, but when it is
adopted as a standard for the adjustment of continuing con-
tracts we must admit that we fail altogether to see the force of
its application.

The question of fair rent, we believe, might be confidently
left to the determination of any competent tribunal, and the
attempt to assist the discretion of the Court by a legislative
declaration of principle is only calculated to impede justice
and foster litigation. There is no tenant in Ireland, it must be
remembered, who does not himself know whether his rent is
fair or not, and a complicated Clause, with endless provisoes and
mystifications, is just the thing to tempt the speculative tenant
to try his chance with the Court. Universal litigation is an
evil to be avoided if possible. The appeal to the Court ought
to be discouraged except in hard cases. It should not be made
an ordinary incident in the tenure of land, for we are fully con-
vinced that the prosperity and progress of the country depends
more upon the introduction of happier relations between land-
lords and tenants, forbearance on the one side, industry and
good-will on the other, than on any paltry reductions, or it
may be increases, in the amount of rent. But if the legislature
is not satisfied to leave to the Court a full and uncontrolled
discretion as to the fixing of a fair rent, and insists on laying
down some guiding principle to regulate its decisions, we think
that sub-clause 9, of this Clause indicates the direction which
such interference should take. That sub-clause gives power to
the Court to fix "a specified value for the holding.'^ It means,
we presume, the " tenancy," or tenant's interest in the holding,
for it goes on to declare that^ in case the tenant is desirous of

n

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 2il

selling during the statutory term, the landlord may resume
possession on payment to the tenant of the amount so fixed.
Now this sum is clearly the ascertained value of the tenant's
property. Why should not the Court be empowered in all
cases to ascertain this value, and deduct, from the full or com-
petition rent, interest at four or five per cent, on tliis capital
sum? This, it seems to us, would meet all objections. The
tenant would no longer be required to pay rent for what was in
reality, if not in law, his own property ; and the duties of the
Court would be reduced to the ascertainment of facts, and a
simple arithmetical calculation.

Let us now turn to the subject of Fixity of Tenure, and
seek to extract from the tangled network of this Bill an answer
to the question, How far is the tenant secured in his holding ?
Security we have seen is his chief desideratum, security not only
against eviction, but also against arbitrary raising of rent. The
latter is provided against, after a fashion, by the Clause which
we have just been engaged in discussing; but it is obviously of
no use to fix the rent unless you also secure the continued
enjoyment of the farm. The fine on capricious eviction imposed
by the Land Act of 1870 was intended to operate in this direc-
tion. That it did, to a great extent, carry out the intentions of
the legislature in that behalf we have little doubt ; yet, in
particular instances, as appears from the evidence before the
Commissioners, the greedy incoming tenant not only paid the
fine for getting rid of his predecessor, but also offered an
increased rent to the landlord. Accordingly, the scale has been
raised by this Bill to a prohibitory standard. Thus, for
example, whenever the rent is under £30 the compensation may
amount to seven years' rent, an allowance which has been
hitherto limited to a £10 valuation; and at the other end of the
scale the change is still more marked. No matter how large a
act of land may be included in the tenancy, a fine of three
ears' rent may be awarded against a landlord. Under the
and Act, on the contrary, only one year's rent was payable
when the holding was valued above £100, and in no case could
the compensation exceed £250. It is clear that the stringency
of these provisions ought to secure their object ; for, certainly,
the landlords as a class could not afford to pay such heavy sums
for the gratification of a whim. There is one serious blot in the
proposed scale of compensation for disturbance to which we
desire to call attention. It proceeds per saltum, and at the
limiting figures of each class the amount payable to a tenant
is suddenly diminished. An alteration of a shilling in his rent
may reduce his compensation from seven to five years' rent.
This was avoided in the Act of 1870 by a somewhat crabbed
VOL. vi.~No. I. [Third Series.] r

242 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

•clause enabling him to claim under any lower class^ his rent
being reduced in proportion for the purposes of calculation.
Let us illustrate this point by an example. Suppose that there
are two tenants, the one paying £29, the other £30 a year as
the rents of their respective farms. Now, under the proposed
scale, the former could claim seven years' rent, or a sum of £203,
while the latter, who pays a higher rent, could under no circum-
stances obtain more than five years' rent, or £150. The same
sudden inequality prevails in the transition from every class
into the next. There is, in fact, a want of continuity in the
assessment of compensation which in particular cases works
injustice. This, we think^ ought to be amended by enabling a
tenant to claim under any lower class, his rent being reduced
by a proportion to the maximum limit of the class under which
he claims. This mode of securing the tenant's position, is
however, only an indirect provision; the more important
scheme of the Bill in relation to fixity of tenure remains to be
-considered.

The " statutory term " is fixed at fifteen years ; and for those
fifteen years the conditions of tenure are to be unalterable.
The rent cannot be raised, and the tenant cannot be evicted,
■except for breach of the ''statutory conditions." Now this
statutory term may arise in two ways ; either when the landlord
attempts to raise the rent if the tenant agrees to the increase,
or when the ''fair rent " is fixed by the Court. In both cases
there is absolute fixity for fifteen years. But what happens on
the expiration of that term ? Mr. Gladstone is reported to have
stated that " at the end of that period the tenant will of course
give up his holding.""^ We are unable to discover in the Bill
any such provision ; and, indeed, it would be out of harmony
with the entire scheme of the measure. It is expressly pro-
vided by Clause 7, sub-clause 1 1, that " during the currency of
a statutory term an application to the Court to determine a
judicial rent " shall only be made durnig the last twelve months
of the statutory term. It leaves undefined the position of
the tenant who permits the statutory term to expire without
making any application ; but we cannot doubt that such a tenant
will be still a " present tenant," and, as such, entitled to have
his rent revised by the Court. This view is confirmed by the
preceding sub-section, which provides that " a further statutory
term shall not commence until the expiration of a preceding
statutory term, and an alteration of judicial rent shall not take
place at less intervals than fifteen years." We believe the
intention is to confer upon the tenants holding statutory terms

* Times, April 8, 1881.

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 243

indefinite " fixity of tenure/^ subject to the statutory conditions,
-and also subject to periodical revision of rent; but it is curious
that so vital a point as this should be left to be discovered by
inference, instead of being expressly stated. Still more extra-
ordinary is it that the position of lessees should not be accurately
defined. The forty-seventh Clause exempts existing leases from
the operation of the Act, the express terms of those written
'Contracts being allowed to regulate the conditions of the
tenancy. But at the expiration of the term, is the lessee to
give up his farm without compensation, or is he a tenant of a
^' present ■" or a " future tenancy ? '' If he is to give up posses-
sion in accordance with the usual covenant in that behalf, a
large number of occupiers will be excluded from the benefit of
Bill ; a class, too, quite as necessitous, and as much in need of
protection, as the tenants from year to year. If, on the other
hand, he is to become an ordinary tenant, whether present or
future, considerable difficulty arises as to the terms on which he
is to hold his farm. The rent may have been fixed on the
granting of the lease many years ago at a figure by no means
representing the present letting value of land, and, moreover,
it may have been reduced in consideration of covenants in the
lease, or by reason of the payment of a fine. It would, there-
fore, be inequitable to treat the tenancy as continuing upon the
sole condition of paying a rent which had been determined with
reference to totally different circumstances. The difficulty
might be met by allowing either party in case of disagreement
to apply to the Court to fix a fair rent under Clause 7, as if the
lessee were an ordinary tenant of a '^ present tenancy." This
is substantially the recommendation made by the Bishops in
their Declaration. They also advance the opinion that '' tenants
holding under leases made since the passing of the Land Act,
1870, should have the right to submit them for revision to the
Court, both as to amount of rent and other conditions.'^ This,
we regret to say that we cannot support in its entirety, since it
seems an unwarrantable interference with existing contracts ;
but, possibly, some provision might be inserted giving the
tenant the option of surrendering his lease, assuming the
position of a '^ present tenant,'^ and applying to have his rent
fixed for the statutory term.

The provisions of the Bill on the subject of fixity of tenure
are ingenious and satisfactory, at all events as applied to the
ordinary yearly tenancies, which constitute the great majority
of Irish lettings. We must now briefly refer to the " statutory
conditions," or implied covenants of the new tenure. The
first is that the " tenant shall pay his rent at the appointed
time." This, at first sight, appears to require the strictest

244) Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

punctuality on the part of the tenant if he is to avoid committing
a breach of the statutory conditions, and thereby rendering
himself liable to the penal consequences ; but when we
remember that in ejectment for non-payment of rent the tenant
has six months in which to redeem, we anticipate little
difficulty in the practical working of this hard and fast rule.
The next is that the tenant shall not commit "persistent waste/'
by dilapidation of buildings, or deterioration of the soil, after
notice has been given to him to desist. Then follow provisions
for securing the landlord's right of mining, quarrying, cutting
timber, making roads, and sporting. Little exception has been
taken to the justice of the foregoing conditions ; not so as to
the last two in the series, which are that the tenant shall not,
without the consent of the landlord, sub-divide, or sub-let ; and
that he shall not do any act whereby his holding becomes vested
in a judgment creditor or assignee in bankruptcy. As to the
former, it is thought desirable by many persons that in the
case of large holdings, the occupier should be at liberty to
assign a part, not less, say, than thirty acres, provided he also
retains in his own hands a farm of a similar extent. It is
argued that, in a country like Ireland, where '' land hunger ''
prevails to such an extraordinary degree, every facility should
be given for the accommodation of as many persons as the
land will hold. From this view we respectfully dissent. The
acknowledged evil of Irish tenure is the wretchedly insufficient
farms on which multitudes of the inhabitants strive to exist.
That lies at the root of all Ireland's miseries ; and the natural
causes tending in the direction of continuous sub-division are
so powerful, that they do not require to be assisted by
legislation. There are nearly a quarter of a million holdings in
Ireland under fifteen acres, and most of these are cultivated in so
slovenly a manner that, by moderately good farming, the
occupier might actually double his income.^ We are as bitter
enemies to " clearances " and " consolidations '* as any tenant
in Ireland, but we are averse, on the other hand, to deliberately
sowing the seeds of destitution and famine. The condition
which forbids the tenant from doing any act whereby his holding
becomes vested in a judgment creditor or assignee in bankruptcy,
seems calculated to give rise to curious " triangular duels.'''
The tenancy, like all the other property of a bankrupt, confining
our attention to that case, passes to the assignee ; but not being
in possession he is not a tenant. He has to take steps to
compel a sale or surrender. In the meantime the landlord is
entitled to treat the tenancy as determined by the breach of

* See Professor Baldwin's Evidence before the ilichmond Commission^
2,867 etseq.

Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 245

the statutory condition, but if he brings ejectment the tenant
is expressly authorized to sell, and being a bankrupt it is not
easy to see how he can confer a title on a purchaser. Similar
interesting questions will probably arise when a judgment
•creditor or mortgagee attempts to enforce his security ; but we
have dwelt sufficiently long on the proposed fixity of tenure and
its conditions, and must now pass to the other scarcely less
important provisions of the Bill.

One striking result of the changes introduced by the tenure
clauses is, that in future ordinary leases will be so much waste
paper, unless indeed the farm is valued at d£150 or upwards, and
the parties expressly exclude the operation of the Act. The
third part of the Bill, however, introduces what is called a
*' judicial lease." It must be for a term of at least thirty-one
jears, and be approved by the Court on behalf of the tenant.
This is practically the only way in which leases can hencefor-
ward be granted by the landlord, or accepted by the tenant;
and amounts to an admission that freedom of contract no longer
■exists in Ireland.

The " fixed tenancy '' is one more form which the relations of
landlord and tenant are permitted to assume. It seems to
•amount to a perpetuity, the landlord's reversion being converted
into a rent-charge, which "may or may not be subject to re-
Taluation by the Court." It is somewhat inconsistently declared
that it shall not be deemed "a tenancy to which this Act
applies," and yet the "Statutory Conditions" are imported as
'defining the terms of the tenancy. If any of these are violated,
the landlord may recover the premises in ejectment ; but, surely,
it cannot be intended that the evicted tenant should have none of
the privileges of an ordinary tenant as to the sale of his tenancy.
It is also noticeable that complete silence prevails as to the
*' quality " of the fixed tenancy. Is it a freehold or a chattel ?
The answer is of course important, not only as aff'ectino^ the
rights of a deceased tenant^s representatives, but also in respect
•of electoral qualifications, and fiscal liabilities.

It is with pleasure that we turn from the tenure clauses of
this complicated measure, to its other provisions, which, at all
events, can be understood without difficulty. Part five includes
the subjects, " Acquisition of Land by Tenants," " Eeclamation
of Land," and " Emigration ; " whose only logical connection is
tliat they all involve an application of public money. We
can only aff'ord a brief notice of these important contributions to
the settlement of the Land Question, but a few words will suffice
to place before our readers the main outlines of their provisions.
The land Commission is authorized to advance to purchasing
tenants three-fourths of the purchase-money of their holdings ;
and, what is perhaps still more important, it can buy an estate

246 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

in gloho, and re-sell in suitable parcels. These powers are, of
course^ hedged round with provisions to secure the State from
eventual loss, and the experience of the sales under the Church
Act points to the conclusion that serious defalcations are not to
be anticipated. We rejoice to see that the Commission is to-
have power to indemnify the tenant against incumbrances, or
doubtful titles ; and that the sales may be negotiated at a fixed
percentage, according to a scale to be settled from time to time.
These provisions will do much to facilitate the practical working
of the scheme, and to avoid the rocks on which the " Bright
Clauses " of the Land Act suffered shipwreck. The advances to
the tenants are to be paid back by an annuity of five per cent,
on the sum advanced, payable for thirty- five years. The con-
ditions annexed to holdings while subject to the payment of this
annuity, are not so onerous as those contained in the Land Act ;
for the tenant can sell at any time, with the consent of the Com-
mission, and without such consent when half the burthen has
been discharged; and the absolute forfeiture incurred by a
tenant under the former Act, on alienation, or sub-division, is
replaced by a sale of the interest thus attempted to be dealt with.

The reclamation of waste lands is a subject of such interest
and importance that it might well furnish the occasion for
separate consideration. The provisions of the Bill seem to us
meagre in the extreme. One clause attempts to deal with this
complicated problem, and the method adopted is to authorize
the Board of Works, with the consent of the Treasury, to make
advances to companies formed for the purpose of reclaiming
waste, drainage, or other works of agricultural improvement.
As the Government advance is not to exceed the amount actually
expended out of its own moneys by the company, it is clear that
the success of the scheme will depend on private enterprise, and
on the somewhat remote prospects of remunerative return.
Under these circumstances we anticipate that it will prove
almost wholly inoperative.

The subject of emigration is still more crudely treated. The
Bishops of Ireland condemn, in no measured language, all
attempts to foster the already strong incentives impelling the
Irish peasantry to leave their native shores. They say, in the
Declaration, to which we have previously referred : —

We cannot but regard emigration, and every Government scheme,
however well intended, that would encourage it, as highly detrimental
to Irish interests.

In the face of this authoritative denunciation, we think the
Government would act a prudent part in suffering Clause 26,
the only one relating to this subject, to drop quietly out of the
Bill. Emigration, no doubt, now exists as a fact that cannot
be ignored, and the circumstances under which the emigrants-

M7\ Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 247

land in a foreign country are highly detrimental to their moral
and material welfare. Much of the evil that falls on the
individuals might, we believe, be averted by the voluntary exodus
of entire communities; but no measure of success could be
commanded against the express disapproval of the Clergy, by
whom alone the scheme could be worked to a prosperous issue.
It is tantalizing to read of tracts of vacant land needing only
the rudest plough, the very simplest husbandry, to suffer trans-
formation from a desert into a cornfield, and then turn our eyes
on the barren wastes of Connaught, overcrowded with a starv-
ing population ; but we repeat that without the hearty
co-operation of the Priests it is worse than useless to attempt
the exportation of the peasantry.

There is another subject which, although not included in the
Bill, is of pressing importance. We allude to the existing
arrears of rent. There are great difficulties in the way of deal-
ing with this question in such a manner as to afford practical
relief where it is absolutely necessary, and at the same time to
avoid violating the principles of natural justice. We are con-
fronted by a state of circumstances in which some men cannot,
and others will not, pay the rents which they have contracted to
pay. Any measure devised for the purpose of dealing with this
subject should be so framed as to permit of a sound discretion
being exercised in the discrimination of these two classes. We
have no sympathy with the well-to-do farmer who merely avails
himself of the existing agitation to avoid payment of his j ust
habilities ; and who, after compelling his landlord to incur the
odium of extreme measures, at the last moment draws from his
pocket the bundle of notes which he should have paid over some
months before. But there is also, undoubtedly, a large class
of tenants who have suffered by the agricultural distress to such
an extent that they are not able to pay at once the arrears of
rent due to their landlords, and for these some provision ought
to be made. We do not see our way to recommending a total
extinguishment of all arrears, for that would be to confound
the prosperous and the necessitous tenants in one enactment ;
and, moreover, would be open to the charge of bare-faced con-
fiscation of the landlords' rights. But the subject may be treated
in one of two ways. Either the Court may be authorized to
capitalize arrears where it sees that the tenant is uuable to pay ;
or the Treasury might advance the necessary sums to liquidate
existing claims. In both cases the capital sums might be paid
off by an annuity extending over a certain number of years.
Without some such provision, we feel assured that the Land
Bill of this Session will fail, in its immediate effects, as a message
of peace to Ireland.

We have not alluded to the machinery by which this important

248 Mr. Gladstone's Second Land Bill.

measure is to be worked; yet, as a practical question, very
much of its success must depend on the spirit in which it is
administered. It is to be feared that the part of the Bill dealing
with the constitution of the Court and of the Land Commission
will not prove by any means satisfactory. The Court that is to
take cognizance of the numerous and important questions that
may arise between landlord and tenant is the Civil Bill Court
of the county where the holding is situated. The Judges of
these Courts — the County Court Judges — have been recently
reduced in number from thirty-three to twenty-one, and their
time is already fully occupied by the discharge of their existing
duties. Moreover, in the exercise of their jurisdiction under
the Land Act, they have failed to impress the tenant farmers of
Ireland with that confidence in their impartiality, which is
above all things necessary as a condition of success in a Court
of Arbitration. We would not, for a moment, be understood as
impugning the perfect fairness and uprightness of those func-
tionaries, but it so happens that their decisions have tended to
impress the tenants with the belief that the law was framed in
the interests of the landlords. Again, the Land Commission,
which is constituted a Court of Final Appeal from the decisions
of the Chairman, is composed of three persons, described in the
Bill as A.B., CD., and E.F., one of whom is to be a Judge of the
Supreme Court. But as the salary attached to the office is
only two thousand pounds, it is manifestly the intention of the
Government that the judicial member of the Commission shall
continue to hold office in his former capacity. If the Land
Commission is to be anything more than a dignified nonentity
we do not see how any of its members can discharge other
functions. Considering the vast and unrestrained powers that
are vested in this body, powers involving an adjudication on the
rights of all the landowners and tenants in Ireland, it is of
the highest importance that their character and position should
be such as to furnish a guarantee, not only for impartiality,
but also for the highest administrative and judical capacity.
These Commissioners hold their appointments at the pleasure
of the Crown, and are removable without compensation or
retiring allowance. A considerable part of the actual work of
the Commission, will, no doubt, be performed by the Assistant
Commissioners, whose appointment by the Lord Lieutenant the
Bill contemplates ; and as all the powers of the Commissioners,
without limit or qualification, may be delegated to a single
Assistant Commissioner, it is too apparent that the Bill is open
here to the grave charge of entrusting the most delicate and
difficult functions to a tribe of underpaid, and consequently
inefficient, functionaries.

We must now conclude our criticisms on this important

Mr, Gladstone's Second Land Bill. 249

measure. Our readers will understand that, while we deplore
the unnecessarily cumbrous form in which it has been cast, we
find in its substantive proposals much that is calculated to
improve the relations of landlords and tenants in Ireland.
Its central position, that an independent tribunal should be
-charged with the revision of rent is of cardinal importance, and
recognizes one of the unhappy necessities of Irish land tenure.
Its treatment of the other F's is not so satisfactory. The
attempts to create, in various ways, fixity of tenure, are com-
plicated and highly artificial ; while the clause dealing with free
sale is so mutilated by conditions and provisoes that it can be
expected to do little more inaugurate a new era of struggle and
strife.

The prospects of the measure becoming law are, as we write,
still somewhat remote. More than two months have elapsed
since it was introduced, and almost every Government night
has been occupied with its discussion. In spite, however, of the
energy with which it has been pushed forward, the Committee
is still engaged on the first Clause of the Bill ; and when the
House adjourned for Whitsuntide, after thirteen sittings devoted
to the Bill, only six lines had been considered in Committee.
Upwards of fifteen hundred Amendments, were, shortly after the
second reading of the Bill, placed on the paper, of which only an
inconsiderable number have as yet been disposed of; and
unless some practical mode of sifting the chaff from the grain
is discovered, the time that will be consumed in their discussion
will be almost interminable. Mr. Gladstone has already thrown
out a significant hint that under certain circumstances it may
be necessary to propose " urgency '^ ; but it is difficult to see
how this dictatorial policy could be adopted in the case of a
•complicated measure like this, every line of which requires the
most careful consideration, without infringing the rights of
Parliamentary discussion. The hint, however, has not been
thrown away, and already the Liberal members have met and
filtered down their amendments, with the result of relieving the
paper of at least one hundred ; and there can be little doubt
that it will also have a salutary tendency towards checking
loquacity and incipient obstruction.

There is only one thing certain, that the Government are
pledged to their Bill, and will adopt any legitimate means to
force it through all its stages. We trust, in the interests of all
parties, that no factious opposition may arise in the course of
the discussion to impede its progress ; for it is now clear to all
impartial minds, that the sooner a fair and equitable adjustment
of the Land Question is arrived at, the better chance there will
be of a restoration of peace and goodwill among all classes in
Ireland.

( 250 )

Itotias of Catlj0lk Coiifetntal ^niobial^.

GERMAN PERIODICALS.

By Dr. Bellesheim, of Cologne.

1. TheKathoUk.

THE March issue of the Katholih contains a very able exposition,
contributed by Professor Bautz, of Munster University, on
Luke xxii. 43, "apparuit angelus confortans eum." In the same
issue I commented on the pamphlet published in January, 1881, at
Rome, by Cardinal Zigliara, " II Dimittatur e la spiegazione datane
dalla Congregazione dell' Indice pel Cardinale Tommaso Maria
Zigliara, dell' Ordine dei Predicatori." It is generally known that
the Congregation of the Index, when some works of the learned
Abbate Rosmini were submitted to its examination, gave the decision
" dimittantur." Rosmini is an eminent writer, whose philosophical
system is still largely supported in Italy. The decision of the Congre-
gation originated a bitter strife amongst Catholic philosophers in
Italy. The meaning of the word, " dimittantur," some contended,^
was as much as a testimony or a " passport" of orthodoxy ; whilst
others interpreted it as only a permission given for a certain time, but-
which, in other circumstances, might be withdrawn. A year ago,
June 21, 1881, the Congregation solemnly declared the sense of the
word " dimittatur " to be, "opus quod dimittitur, non prohiberi."
Cardinal Zigliara, who is a learned theologian and acute philosopher,
displays much knowledge of theology, history, and canon law in
establishing this explanation of the holy Congregation. He begins by
explaining the various form of approbation given by the Church to
Catholic books ; such approbation is either definitive, or elective, or
permissive. A " definitive " approbation is stamped with a dogmatical
character ; once bestowed on a book, it cannot be withdrawn. 'The
" elective " approbation means that the Church chooses a book, or a
sentence, in preference to another one. It does not give dogmatical
authority to a theological work ; it is based on the knowledge which
the authorities in the Church possess, " hie et nunc." This appro-
bation is far more than a simple permission. Nevertheless, as our
author appropriately points out, it does not exceed the limits of what
is more or less likely. Hence, it might happen that a sentence held to
be only probable, might, by a process of development, come to be
held as certain, and obtain from the Church a definitive approbation ;
whilst, on the other hand, opinions less probable might eventually
turn out to be erroneous, and then, although formerly permitted,
-would no longer be permitted by the authorities. Lastly, comes what

Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals, 251

is styled the " permissive " approbation. It is no real approbation,
as in the two former cases, since it does not contain any judgment as
to whether or not errors exist in a book ; it claims only a mere
negative importance ; the work which is permitted or dismissed is not
prohibited. Cardinal Zigliara clearly shows that the " dimittatur "'
does not in the least imply a definitive, nor any elective approbation.
The Cardinal also establishes the truth of his thesis from eccesiastical
history. As early as the fifth century. Pope Gelasius pointed out
the aforesaid approbations by distinguishing three sorts of books.
Firstly, the books of the Bible inspired by the Holy Ghost, together
with dogmatical decrees of the Po|)es and oecumenical councils;
secondly, the works of the holy fathers; and thirdly, a class of books
which he permits the faithful to read, whilst reminding them of
St. Paul's words, "Omnia probate, quod bonum est tenete." A
sample of the third class of books was shown in the works of Eusebius
ofCaesarea. The same distinction is established by Cardinal Turre-
cremata in his explanation of cap. " Sancta Romana ecclesia," dist. 75.
In the last part of his pamphlet our author answers two important
questions, largely discussed in Italy by Rosmini's supporters and
adversaries. 1. May books that have been only permitted, be re-
examined and impugned by Catholic authors who are unable to agree
with them ? 2. May the Church withdraw the permission given in
favour of a Catholic book as soon as certain weighty reasons call on
her to do so 1 Both questions are answered in the affirmative by the
Cardinal. I may also call the reader's attention to the learned work
in which all questions bearing on the " Dimittatur " are exhaustively
treated. Its title is " Seraphini Piccinardi, De approbatione S. Thomse,"
Patavii: 1G83.

2. Historisch-politiscJie Blatter. — The March number contains a
critique of the recent edition of Cardinal Contarini's correspondence
from the celebrated diet of Ratisbone, 1541, published by Dr. Pastor^
of Innsbruck University. We are indebted for it to the kindness
of Cardinal Hergenrother, who, on being appointed keeper of the
secret archives of the Holy See, admitted Dr. Pastor to the immense
treasures heaped up there from all parts of the Catholic world.
Contarini's correspondence, long' searched for in vain, was finally
found in Vol. 129 of that part of the Vatican Archives which bears
the name, " Bibliotheca Pia." Of its importance no words need be
said. German Protestant historians for centuries have been accus-
tomed to claim the papal nuncio Contarini for the Protestant Re-
formation. It cannot be denied that Contarini, owing to his indulgent
and meek character, did his utmost to bring over to the Catholic
Church the champions of Protestantism sent to Ratisbone — Melanc-
thon, Bucer, and Sturm — but it would be totally inconsistant with all
historical truth to claim him for the Reformation. His orthodoxy,
his zeal for the Apostolic See, as well as his kindness and forbear-
ance towards the Church's disobedient sons, are clearly testified by
the recentlv discovered letters dragged out from the dust of three^

252 Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals,

centuries. Contarini strongly opposed tlie opinions of the Protestant'
theologians about the real presence, and constantly blamed them for
their ambiguous terms. Those unhappy men were most anxious not
to offend their secular princes, and for fear of disagreeing with them,
dared not bring forward their real opinions. The one who was sunk
in the deepest slavery was Melancthon. Contarini's letters leave no
doubt about it ; the Reformer sighed under the cruelty of the Duke of
Saxony, and was afraid of losing his life.

The March and April numbers contain the concluding articles on
the " Wanderings of Jansenism through Europe." Next to France
and Germany, we meet with the pestiferous influence of the sect in
Italy and Portugal. A very stronghold of Jansenism in Northern,
Italy was the University of Pavia. To prove to Italian Catholics at
Milan the orthodoxy of the new creed, a work was published in 1786
— "Del Cattolicismo della chiesa d'Utrecht." It was triumphantly
replied to by Canon Mozzi, in his " Storia delle Rivoluzioni della
chiesa d'Utrecht," a w^ork of great learning, and still well worth
reading. The last article examines the influence of Jansenism in
Portugal. The Nuncio Pacca — afterwards Cardinal — -who repre-
sented the Holy See in Portugal from 1795 till 1802, soon learned
how detrimental an influence had been brought to bear on Portuguese
Catholics by Jansenism. It there enjoyed the protection, not only
of the Government, but also of certain members of the higher clergy,
amongst whom we cite the Bishop of Viseu, Don Francesco Mendo
Trigozo, who ascribed the translation of the Jansenistic Catechism of
Montpellier to a " special act of God's Providence," declaring that he
would be guilty of sin if he did not introduce it into his diocese. The
sect, the Cardinal says, by its hypocritical behaviour, has succeeded in
persuading the governments to believe that its adherents are the
most faithful subjects of the Church, and the most sincere defenders
of the rights of the governments against the so-called encroachments of
the Roman Court. The Government most unfortunately trusted
such assertions ; hence there was sown that seed from which sprang
so many disasters in those countries.

The second May issue criticizes a very important book, which may
fitly be styled a definitive sentence on a question eagerly discussed for
some years amongst Catholics, viz., " Who is the author of the ' Imi-
tation of Christ 1 ' " The book bears the title, " Thomas a Kempis, als
Schryver der Navolging van Christus gehandhaafd door P. A.
Spitzen, oud-hoogleraar te Woormond, pastor te Zwolle. Utrecht :
1881." It is indeed curious, that in the recent dispute about Thomas
a Kempis and Abbot Gersen no voice has been heard from the very
country which for centuries was commonly held to have given birth
to the author of the ^' Imitation." Spitzen, the parish priest of Zwolle,
has broken the silence, and has succeeded in establishing two im-
portant facts : A person called Giovanni Gersen never existed ;
Thomas a Kempis is the author of the " Imitation." Spitzen brings
forward six facsimiles of the most important manuscripts of the
"^' Imitation," and by palgeographical reasons utterly destroys the opinion

Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals, 253

about manuscripts of it dating from the beginning of the fourteenth
century. There are, on the contrary, evident proofs that the oldest
manuscript codex of the " Imitation" is not older than the middle of the
fifteenth century. But far more weighty are the historical witnesses
bearing testimony for Thomas a Kempis. The chief one quoted by
Spitzen is the " Chronicon Windisheimense," in which John Busch calls
Thomas author of the " Imitation." This testimony is unimpeachable,
since Busch, himself a member of the same congregation as Thomas,,
was deputed also to be its official historian. John Gerardyn, a
member of the Convent of the Holy Apostles at Utrecht (1466) who
transcribed the " Chronicon," calls Thomas author of the " Imitation."
In every century those scholars who were most competent stood
for Thomas ; but Abbot Gersen is only a fabricated person. What
gave rise to the fabrication, and how it came down to us from the
seventeenth century, is so convincingly shown by Spitzen, that
further serious dispute we may well consider to be mere waste of time.

ITALIAN PERIODICALS.

La Scuola Cattolica. 28 Febbrajo, 1881.
1. — The Roman Malaria.

THE Scuola Cattolica concludes its treatment of the subject of the
Roman Malaria in its February number by replying to the
following questions : — 1. Is it possible to restore the Agro Romano to
a healthy state ? 2. Is the malaria chargeable on the Pope-kings ?
Proof had already been adduced to establish incontrovertibly that the
malaria has its origin in physical causes. But are those causes
removable, or capable of being counteracted ? Upon the answer must
depend the question whether or no blame is imputable to the Papal
Government, which failed to remove or counteract them. The writer
goes on to show that the draining of the Agro, a w^ork frequently
attempted unsuccessfully by the Popes, involves a very complicated
problem. The higher grounds — all, in short, above the sea level —
could be drained, it is true, by means of canals which would draw off
the water from all the marshy depressions ; but this would effect
nothing towards restoring the district to a sanitary state, so long as the
great focus of infection remained in the low grounds of the Delta,
viz., the accumulation of stagnant and putrescent waters shut in by
the sand hills from the sea, and beneath its level. The Commissioners
appointed by the present Italian Government, after discussing pro-
jects for either emptying or filling up these lagunes, seem to consider
that the only plan which recommends itself as feasible under the cir-
cumstances is to fill these basins, and thus raise their level above that
of the sea. Signer Canevari has calculated that it would require
ninety millions of cubic metres of earth for this purpose. A notion
of the gigantic nature of such an enterprise may be formed from the
fact that this mass would be equivalent to fifty-five mountains of earth,
each of them as large as the Vatican Basilica. But whence is it all to

:^54 Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals.

-come ? Here is the difficulty. One way would be to turn the Tiber
into these pools, which would gradually fill them up by its deposits.
'That is, after all the great antecedent hydraulic preparations have
been made, it is computed that fifty years would be required for the
process itself. The other idea, which was originally that of P.
Secchi, is to transport the soil from hills levelled fo the purpose.
'This could only be done by the aid of steam carriage, which would
involve an enormous outlay ; but without this it would' be folly to
think of it. Granting that one or other of these plans would be
feasible — and that would be to grant far too much, considering the
doubtful language of scientific men, not to speak of the many practical
•difficulties which would beset its execution, and render its completion
extremely problematic — what accusation can be grounded on these
hypothetical projects against the Pope-kings for not having hitherto
accomplished a work, the very idea of which would be chimerical but
for the progress which science has made in our days, both in mechani-
cal and in hydraulic departments, and the discovery of steam power
for its application ? But such is the common way of dealing with
matters where the Popes are concerned ; no account is taken of times
and seasons, of the circumstances amidst which their lives were cast,
or the knowledge and means at their disposal ! It appears, moreover,
that one or more of the Commissioners regard the project of rendering
the Agro Bomano salubrious as any way a sheer Utopia, because the
malaria exhales, not from these stagnant basins alone, but from many
neighbouring marshes — the whole coast from Gaeta to Spezia being
of that character more or less. For further reasons of an adverse
nature to the successful realization of the work in question, we must
refer the reader to the article itself. We think he will conclude that
it is rather premature, not to say altogether absurd, to raise a shout
of triumph as to the contrast presented between the achievements of
revolutionary Italy and those of the preceding Pontifical rule.

2. The Bight of Asylum for Regicides, and the Impotence of Modern
Society. 30 Aprile, 1881.

SINCE the commencement of this century there have been not less
than sixty-seven cases of regicide attempted or accomplished.
Have these crimes been brought upon sovereigns through their fault,
or are they imputable to the wickedness and lawlessness of subjects?
"Whatever answer may be given to this question — and probably the
blame is divisible between the two — certain it is, that regicide in its
present form and frequency is a dark product of modern society under
the fatal influence of Liberalism. Our European statesmen, moved by
the late assassination of the Eussian Czar, have been led to a conclu-
sion, long ago obvious to Catholics, viz., that one of the causes of this
crime is the abuse of the right of asylum. How, indeed, can any
■check be put upon it if the culprit finds everywhere a place of refuge 1
He has not far to go. Belgium and France are often at his service,
JEngland always, while Switzerland, occupying a central situation with

Notices of Catholic Continental' Periodicals, 255

respect to the nations whicli are most disquieted, not only offers a
;secure retreat, but is itself an active focus of conspiracy. Now, it
is in contemplation to agree upon some international law which shall
■restrict this right of asylum. Will these statesmen succeed? The
-writer thinks that they will not, and even cannot. Impotence, both
^political and moral, is against their project. For agreement there must
•be union. Now the union, if such it can be called, which subsists
;among the European States is«not one of organism, but is the offspring
•of their mutual jealousy. Suspicious watchfulness of each other is
their habitual attitude ; there is no uniting bond between them,
nothing to form the ground of a common agreement or common action.
In this essentially discordant state of things who is to define the right
•of asylum, and get its limitations accepted ? And, above all, where is the
iSanction of a decision to be sought, without which no stipulation is worth
more than the parchment on which it is written ? When civil society
was not, as now, the society of " progress," but a Christian republic, a
■common bond of union did exist. There was a law — that of the Church
— which commanded universal respect, and there was a common
Father of all, a living interpreter and judge of that law, whose sen-
tence often terminated the gravest differences, and was successful in
•obtaining a homage to justice and right from both prince and people.
The so-called Holy Alliance was an abortive attempt at a substitute
for the Christian unity of past times with its venerated court of appeal.
This device proved an utter failure in either stemming the revolution
or preserving the peace of Europe. In the present day the only means
of coming to an agreement which the European States possess is diplo-
macy, with all its arts, its subterfuges, its jealous espionage and
•duplicity. Eegicides will be able to continue their atrocious plots
against princes long before diplomacy will be able to lay the first
foundation stone of a new international legislation for their protection
-and that of society.

There might be one way of escape from this political impotence
if each State would consent to accept the judicial sentences of the
others, so that, when any individual was condemned as a regicide, it
would suffice to give authentic notice thereof in order to the delinquent
being handed over by the State in which he had sought refuge ; in
other words, that regicides should be universally condemned, so that
the right of asylum should no longer shield from justice a crime so
menacing to public peace. But can the modern powers be brought to
^gree in such a measure ? Their moral impotence, which is substan-
tially the root of their political impotence, forbids this agreement.
Regicide is, in fact, practically regarded in many of the States as simply
a, political offence, and under this head it is not considered to come
under the conditions of extradition. The writer is, therefore, of opinion
that the prevailing corruption of principles will hinder modern society
from pronouncing a decision which would place it in the category of
murder. Amongst Catholics, of course, there is no question as to the
oriminality of regicide. No one, be he prince or subject, can be law-
fully put to death by private authority ; neither is it lawful to kill even

256 Kotices of Catholic Continental Periodicals.

a manifest tyrant, because of the peril of the consequences which ensue-
to states from such an act. Hence Catholics reckon the murder of a
sovereign as a worse crime than an ordinary murder. If, therefore,
the European governments were Catholic, all could be satisfactorily
provided for, and nothing would be easier than to apprehend the regi-
cide wherever he had taken refuge. Princes may accordingly thank
themselves if their death is so often compassed, for it is they who
have headed the wicked war against the Church, the only instruc-
tress of true principles and the fountain of just laws. But the logic of
Liberalism, which they have favoured, leads inexorably to the present
appalling state of things. This the writer proceeds ably to demon-
strate, but space forbids our following his argument in detail. As an
instance of the extreme but logical result of the doctrine of the
people's sovereignty, and their indefeasible right, as expressed by a
majority — a principle accepted with more or less prominence in al]
European States except Eussia and Turkey — he reminds us of the late
amnesty accorded in France to the deported Communists, who had been
guilty of the most flagrant and sanguinary deeds, from which measure
we are led to deduce that murder, arson, and robbery are no longer
judged to be crimes by the French nation if committed during a sedition.
But what is to hinder the sovereign people, by the mouth of its repre-
sentatives, from deciding to-morrow that even that condition is not
needed ? Regicides are as yet in the minority, but they call them-
selves the leaders of progress, and confidently assert that the future is
theirs. You hang us to-day, they say, but to-morrow we shall have
statues erected to us. All Liberal Europe is treading the same path
in which France has made such advanced progress, and, had it been
possible that the Nihilists should have succeeded and attained to power
in Russia, there can be little doubt but that the other governments
would have made up their minds to enter into amicable relation with
the new administration.

But even as matters stand, and supposing that all were agreed in
reckoning regicide to be a crime, our statesmen would have to
renounce many other principles beside the indefeasible right of
majorities to rule all points, principles which, thanks to them, widely
prevail in modern society, before they could succeed in limiting the
right of asylum. For instance, the doctrine which they have so
largely acted upon, of the end justifying the means, that of accepting
accomplished facts ; the imposture called non-intervention, devised by
Napoleon III., who never acted upon it when it suited his policy to
disregard it ; but, above all, the intense selfishness and egotism erected
into a system under the name of utilitarianism, which makes states
regard only their own immediate and narrow interests, would have to
be given up. The useful and the expedient have supplanted God and
His law. The treaty of Westphalia, which dethroned religion,
sanctioned utilitarianism in politics. Crimes had been committed in
all ages, but henceforth they were committed on system.

After noticing several other influences at work which would defeat
the proposed object, the writer finally alludes to the physical impotence.

Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals. 257

as he styles it, which would render its success utterly nugatory, so
long as it shall continue to exist. What avails to prosecute the
regicide while you train up regicides in your bosom ? Take away
the causes which form them, or you will be physically impotent against
this crime. In one word, it is indispensable to return to God, to
Christianity-^that is, to true Christianity, which is Catholicism.
Society has need of* a complete system, and that is to be found only in
Catholicism. But if you do not will the means, you never can attain
the end ; therefore is modern society, in spite of its pride and its
boasting, impotent against the crime which dismays it — such is the
sentence which it has merited by its many iniquities.

FRENCH PEEIODICALS.
Bevue des Questions Historiques. Avril, 1881. Paris.

POPE ALEXANDER VI. is the subject of a long and careful
article from the pen of M. Henri de I'Epinois. The subject is
a sadly familiar one in controversial and anti- Catholic literature, but
the Article is noteworthy in one or two ways. It is a compendious
resume of the most recent works, whether expressly on the career of
this Pope, or in which it has received any special treatment. Also, it is
marked in its tone by great discrimination and freedom from prejudice.
Though the writer would rejoice to be called Ultramontane, his
Article deliberately lends confirmation to the popular bad opinion of
Alexander VI., quite as frequently as it seeks to soften that opinion
towards the more favourable, truth. Impartiality, not bias, and zeal
entirely guided by respect for historical truth — these qualities
marking a truly Catholic study of the life of such a Pontiff, recom-
mend it very powerfully, as likely to promote the cause of our holy
religion with earnest enquirers. The saying^ of Count Joseph de
Maistre : " Les Papes n'ont besoin que de la verite," is gladly accepted
by M. de I'Epinois as a motto — it is, indeed, he says, a first principle
of their history.

The first thing that may strike a reader who has been accustomed
to hear modern Catholic historical writing condemned as one-sided, is,
that for unflinching condemnation of this unworthy Pope, and for
judgment characterized by what he may have fancied was " Protestant
honesty," there is no need to travel beyond the pages of some of our
standard Ultramontane authors. The present Cardinal Hergenrother
calls him an " immoral and wicked Cardinal," and an " unworthy
Pope," whose death "freed Christianity of a great scandal." Only, of
course, neither Cardinal Hergenrother nor any other Catholic author
argues for the need of impeccability because of infallibility, or con-
founds the morals of a Pope with his oflSce, or fancies that the Pontiffs
of Christ's Church need show otherwise than His apostles did, among
whom the crime of Judas in no wise dimmed the glory of the faithful
eleven. " The faults" of Alexander VI., writes M. de I'Epinois,
VOL. VI. — NO. I. [Third Series.] s

258 Notices of Catholic Continental Periodicals,

*'will not trouble the faith of a Christian The Chnrcli

lives in the world, and is served by men subject to all the weaknesses
of their time, but the Divine element in her continues unassailable,
indefectible; the worst Popes have never opposed to the Faith any

decree that could change it It would seem that the

character of infallible vicars of Jesus Christ is resplendent in them
with new brilliance. It would appear natural that a Pius V. or a
Pius IX. should never decree anything contrary to faith or morals,
because they would have simply to transfer into words the working
of their own pure lives and chaste thoughts ; but if a Pope who is
the victim of human passions has never altered the truth, in that
we have a fact not natural, but clearly bespeaking a divine guidance."
Thus, whilst the human personality of the Popes may fall a victim,
the Divine character stands out the more clearly from the darkness.
But, alas, the evil lives of her priests and children is often chastised
in their successors. Alexander VI. explains Luther. " History
properly studied — the history of Alexander VI. more than any other
— is the justification of Divine Providence."

One point to be carefully observed, however, and it is distinctly
shown from the best authorities in M. de L'Epinois's article — is that
the life of Alexander VI. was by no means so black as it has been
painted. " It would appear," says Mr. Kawdon Brown, quoted by the
writer, " that history took the Borgia family as a canvas on which to
bring together era tableau the debaucheries ofthe fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries." And Alexander VI., culpable doubtless, was made a scape-
goat ; the passions and spite of his numerous enemies have exaggerated,
insinuated, invented against him. Much of the documentary evidence,
the writer warns us, contains trustworthy details mixed up with anec-
dotes exaggerated, or altered, or gratuitously invented. It must not be
forgotten how much political rancour mixed itself at that time with
religious feeling and judgments, and how unworthy were the lives of
the men who grew indignant about a Pope whose fault was to be too
much of their own description. So far may this characteristic of
society at that time impair the weight of its testimony, so uncertain
and difficult of explanation is much of that testimony, that it is by no
means impossible to undertake a defence of even Alexander VI. This
task, two recent authors. Fathers OUivier and Leonetti, have confidently
attempted. In the dedication of his book to St. Peter, Father Leonetti
calls Alexander the " piu oltraggiato " of the Apostle's successors. In
Bumming up the result of his long arti:le, M. de I'Epinois says
that he cannot accept the conclusions of those — as M. Cerri, Dandolo,
Father Ollivier — who have tried to prove that Eodriguez Borgia
was legitimately married before he received Orders, or of Father
Leonetti, v/ho has transformed the sons of that Cardinal into his
nephews ; on these points he is of the opinion, which he quotes, of the
learned Jesuit editors ofthe CmYM, that Alexander cannot be justified ;
^' he had several children, four or five after he was bishop and cardinal,
one whilst he was Pope." The second and third section of the article
where these points are discussed are manifestly the result of wide and

Notices of Books. 25ft

careful reading. But the public life of Cardinal Borgia was marked
by prudence, zeal, tact, success in the missions confided to him: "Sa vie
publique n'a guere merite que des eloges." The question whether
or not his election was simoniacal is fully discussed in Section V. of
this Article.

That Cardinal Borgia expended large sums of money, and promised
benefices to the Cardinal electors, and that he promised reforms which
he never attempted, appears too true ; " but he has been accused,
without proof, of nameless debaucheries, and of having turned the
Vatican into a theatre of horrible orgies." He vigorously pursued
the turbulent feudatories of the States of the Church, assuring to the
States their modern constitution, a work which Julius II. only com-
pleted ; but he has been accused without proof of premeditated treasons,
and of being the accomplice of assassins. The summary justice of
CaBsar Borgia w?s unfortunately the custom of the time. That which
is not doubtful, which was public in the conduct of Alexander VI.,
truly his grande passion^ was his desire to aggrandize his children, his
nepotism. The accusation that Alexander VI. poisoned the Sultan
Djemm, is far from being proved — " n'est nullement prouvee ;"
neither did he poison Cardinal Orsini, as may be learned from the
express testimony of witnesses friendly to the Orsini family. He did
much for the spiritual interests of the Church, detailed in section X.
M. de I'JEpinois promises in a future study to consider the question why,
if Alexander was zealous for the reform of the Church, he did not
second the efforts of Savonarola. Lastly, was the death of this unfor-
tunate Pope due to poison intended for others? Muratori rejected this
as a fable, and new documents have confirmed the justice of his
rejection. Alexander died of fever. The suspicions of poison, from
the rapid decomposition of his body, point only to effects natural
enough in the month of August. These are only assertions — the
reader will find in the able article itself seventy pages of proofs and
authorities.

Itotias of §0olis.

♦
The Cat ; an Introduction to the Study of Backboned Animals^ especially
Mammals. By St. Georqe Mivart, Ph.D., F.R.S. London :
John Murray. 1881.

THE cat may be studied from various points of view ; but Professor
Mivart's large and admirably brought out volume of some 600
pages, is calculated to invest that animal with a respectability which
it was hardly suspected to possess. The writer's object, in this mono-
graph, seems to be, to enable those who are not going to be doctors to
attain to a thorough acquaintance with anatomy and physiology. That
there are many such persons anxious to learn cannot be doubted for
a moment. There are numbers of priests, for example, who are well

s 2

260 Notices of Boohs.

aware that the more completely they know these two sciences, the
more easily and safely do they walk in their professional duties ; and
no student of metaphysics, whether priest or layman, can afford to
overlook the questions raised by materialistic writers in reference to
brain, nerve and tissue, or to despise the assistance which modern in-
vestigations offer in determining the relations between spirit and body.
Non -professional students of man's anatomy — that is to say, all but
those who are studying for the medical profession — have hitherto
been too effectually deterred by the supposed necessity of attending
dissections of the human subject in a public dissecting room. Priests,
especially, have naturally found it to be out of the question to mix
with medical students and attend demonstrations in a public hall.
This is the reason why Professor Mivart has chosen the Cat.

A fresh description of human anatomy is not required, and would be
comparatively useless for those for whom the work is especially intended.
For a satisfactory study of animals (or of plants) can only be carried on
by their direct examination — the knowledge to be obtained from reading
being supplemented by dissection. This, however, as regards man, can
only be practised in medical schools. Moreover, the human body is so
large that its dissection is very laborious, and it is a task, generally at
first unpleasing, to those who have no special reason for undertaking
it. But this work is intended for persons who are interested in zoology,
and especially in the zoology of beasts, birds, reptiles and fishes, and not
merely for those concerned in studies proper to the medical profession
(Pref. viii.).

Cats are easily to be had ; they are not too large ; and they are so
sufficiently like man, as to limbs and other larger portions of the
frame, that almost all the advantages to be gained from human
dissection may be obtained by the dissection of the cat. This volume,
indeed, is intended as an introduction to the natural history of the whole
group of backboned animals ; we have definitions of all needful terms,
and all those explanations which an introductory handbook is ex-
pected to afford, combined with that vividness of illustration which
results from studying these things in a concrete example.

With the technical part of this most opportune book we shall not
be expected to concern ourselves deeply. We have chapters on form,
skin, skeleton, muscles, on the alimentary and nervous systems, the
organs of respiration and circulation, and all the other subjects con-
nected with physiology proper as exemplified in the cat. It may be
observed, however, that Professor Mivart has dealt with the
technicalities of his subject in so clear and intelligible a fashion that
the non-professional reader will not find it difficult to follow him. If
we turn, for instance, to chapter vii., on the cat's organs of circulation,
we find a readable and useful account of the blood, the arteries, the
veins, the heart, &c. In the chapter on respiration we find it easy to
understand all about the voice and its production. Under the nervous
system we learn the structure of the eye, and so on. But this book,
besides being an excellent hand-book for a student of physiology, is
also the production of a philosophic writer who has thought much on

Notices of Books, 261

most of those higher problems which are now being discussed on all
sides under the heads of psychology, descent and development. It
will be recognized by all instructors of Catholic youth, and by
students themselves, that it is no common advantage to have a first-
class textbook of physiology, written by a Catholic writer who has
already won from the public the privilege of being listened to even on
questions of far higher import. The chapter entitled, the Psychology
of the Cat, contains, under a title which may astonish some and
amuse a few, a most valuable and orginal lesson on the distinction
between the mental powers of even the highest animals and the in-
tellectual gifts of man. The author had already treated the subject at
length in his "Lessons from Nature," from the fourth chapter to the
seventh ; and to those who have read that thoughtful work there is not
so much in this chapter which is new. The list of the different kinds
of language is repeated ; but, on the other hand, we have a much
more extended list of the various " powers " which exist in man
and in the brutes. Professor Mivart sums up the cat's active powers
under eighteen heads, among which he includes what he terms
"organic inference " and " organic volition." "Organic inference,"
he defines as the power " of so reviving complex imaginations, upon
the occurrence of sensations and images, as to draw practical conse-
quences." It is obvious that it is the use of the words " inference "
and " drawing of consequences " which has to be guarded and ex-
plained. The problem is, to admit that the animal sees a consequent
without seeing the consequence. As there is, without doubt, an in-
superable difficulty in forcing new terms into the language, we
presume no attempt can be made to establish a double set of terms for
"knowledge," the one expressing what is known by sense without
intellect, the other by intellect making use of sense. Under these
circumstances, perhaps. Professor Mivart's expression " organic
inference," or " drawing practical inferences " — though the phrases
somewhat startle a scholastic — need not be objected to. His explana-
tion is extremely clear and well put. He says : —

All the actions performed by the cat are such as may be understood to
take place without deliberation or self-consciousness. For such action it
is necessary, indeed, that the animal should sensibly cognize external
things, but it is not necessary that it should intellectually perceive their
being ; that it should feel itself existing, but not recognize that existence ;
that it should feel relations between objects, but not that it should
apprehend them as relations ; that it should remember, but not inten-
tionally seek to recollect ; that it should feel and express emotions, but
not itself advert to them ; that it should seek the pleasurable, but not
that it should make the pleasurable its deliberate aim (p. 373).

In fact, as he adds, all the mental phenomena displayed by the cat
are capable of explanation without drawing at all upon that list of
peculiarly " human " gifts which Professor Mivart gives on the preced-
ing page. This, we consider, is the true way in which to meet the
men who are always bringing up cases of miraculous dogs and reason-
ing cats. The question is, can these actions, which every one admits

262 Notices of Books.

to have an outward resemblance to actions whicli man would do under
similar circumstances, be explained without calling in reason proper,
or the abstractive and universalizing power ? If they can — and we
maintain they can — then they are of no weight whatever in proving
that the mental powers of man and brute differ only in degree, and
not in kind. Professor Mivart enforces his views by the consideration
of the question of language. He enters at some length into the
question of what the soul of an animal is. He considers that there is
innate in every living organism below man, a distinct, substantial,
immaterial entity, subsisting (of course) indivisibly. This he calls
the Psyche — soul, or form. The animal soul has no actual existence
apart from the matter which it vivifies. Yet it is the animal, par
excellence; the matter of which the animal is composed beingbut '^ the
subordinate part" of that compound but indissoluble unity — the living
animal. And as the soul of the living creature has no separate existence
from the matter in which it energizes, so when that material envelope, or
rather, sphere of occupancy, is dissolved (by death) the " soul" ceases
to exist at all. This is Thomistic teaching pure and simple. Professor
Mivart even uses the word "form ;" though it will be observed how
skilfully he translates scholastic technicalities into modern English.
He does not pursue the subject as far as some of his readers would
have desired ; he does not inquire whence comes the " psyche" of an
animal, and whither it goes. The distinguished Dominican Professor,
Dr. A. Lepidi, of Louvain, is of opinion that the souls of animals are
produced immediately by divine interference in each case, either
having been created all simultaneously, when the world was made, or
being provided at conception, as soon as the body is sufficiently
organized to receive them. His reason for this supposition appears to be
the difficulty of every other hypothesis. " Matter," he says, quoting
St. Thomas of Aquin, " cannot produce the immaterial." This idea of
perpetual creation will, to many, appear unnatural. Does God inter-
fere with his creative power whenever a fly is born, or an insect of an
hour begins its brief existence ? But the truth is, that this
" interference " is universal, and is not exceptional or miraculous, but
law and Nature. Everything that exists — presuming everything to be
a composite — seems (to judge by effects) to have a " form" quite
different from the resultant of its mechanical elements. Men of
science deny this ; but we are coming back to it again. These
" forms " do not exist in Nature, apart or tangible. They seen, to
come in, to spring out, to be set up, at the moment matter is organized
or prepared in a certain fashion. Similarly, at a certain step in the
process of dissolution, they disappear and recede into non-existence.
If it be thus with chemical forces, and with plants, much more truly
is it so with beings whose operations, being immaterial, demand an
immaterial " form " or principle. So that animals, plants, and even the
rocks and the water, begin to be by a sort of " creation " — the sudden
bursting into being of a potent energy which was waiting undeveloped
in those same recesses whence came the world itself. These energies
die out as they come. In spite of the ingenious speculation of

• Notices of Books. 263

Balmez, that the souls of animals are not destroyed, but are used again
and again for the ''information " of fresh materials, it seems more true
to the scheme of Nature to say they disappear. Their production is not
creation proper, if we reserve the word creation either for the produc-
tion of things without pre-existing conditions, or for the production of
the image and likeness of the Maker ; and neither is their dissolution
annihilation.

In his concluding chapter on the " Pedigree and Origin of the Cat,"
Professor Mivart repeats and enforces those views on Natural Selection
and on Origin which he has so ably developed in his " Genesis of
Species." His conclusion is well known. He admits that " environ-
ment," and " surrounding agencies," and " indefinite tendencies," have
had much to do with development ; but he insists that an internal
force or " form," or soul, has played the chief part in the world's
transformations.

The idea of an internal force is a conception which we cannot escape if
we would adhere to the teaching of Nature. If, in order to escape it, we
were to consent to regard the instincts of animals as exclusively due to
the conjoint action of their environment and their physical needs, to what
should we attribute the origin of their physical needs — their desire for
food and safety, and their sexual instincts ? If, for argument's sake,
we were to grant that these needs were the mere result of the active
powers of the cells which compose their tissues, the question but returns —
Whence had these cells their active powers, their aptitudes and needs ?
And, if by a still more absurd concession, we should grant that these
needs and aptitudes are the mere outcome of the physical properties of
their ultimate material constituents, the question still again returns, and
with redoubled force. That the actual world we see about us should ever
have been possible, its very first elements must have possessed those
definite essential natures, and have had implanted in them those internal
laws and innate powers which reason declares to be necessary to account for
the subsequent outcome. We must then, after all, concede at the end as
much as we need have conceded at the outset of the inquiry (p. 525).

The book may be earnestly recommended, both as an admirable text-
book and as a clear, sound, and courageous exposition of philosophical
principle on matters regarding which every educated Catholic is bound
to be fairly informed.

Tkt Pvlpit Commentary. Edited by the Rev. Canon H. D. M. Spencer^
M.A., and the Rev. Joseph S. Exell. Genesis and 1 Samuel,
2 vols. London : C. Kegan Paul & Co. 1880.

WE presume that by a " Pulpit Commentary " ia meant a com-
mentary intended especially for the use of preachers. Now
preachers do not want long dissertations on roots and readings ; they
want the results rather than the processes of critical discussion. They
look for a concise explanation of the Scripture text, with such
comments as may best help them to adapt it to popular instruction.
{Suggestive thoughts, spiritual maxims, apt illustrations, pithy sayings
of the Fathers, telling anecdotes — these form the concentrated food tor
which the preacher yearns ; the milk and water can be easily obtained.

?6|j Notices of Books.

Judging of the present work by the volumes which have yet appeared,
it fails to fulfil the special requirements of a Preacher's Commentary.
The exposition of the text is certainly the best part. A great deal of
matter is there condensed into a very small compass. But the greater
part of the work is made up of what are called homiletics and homilies,
a distinction by no means clear, or uniformly understood by the
various contributors. These consist mainly of sermon notes and plans
of sermons ; in other words, of homiletical matter in different stages of
preparation, from the highly wrought period to the merest outline.
Of solid dogmatic teaching there is scarcely a trace ; but of vague
Christianity, and virtue in general, there is more than enough. Plati-
tude is heaped on platitude, and the whole mass endlessly divided and
sub-divided. Let any one read but a few pages of these bulky volumes
and he will understand what Sydney Smith meant by " being preached
to death." There is more real suggest! veness in one chapter of
" Cornelius a Lapide " than in a whole volume of the " Pulpit Com-
mentary." Then, owing to its defective plan, the work when completed
will be too large and too dear for any but the beneficed preachers of a
well-endowed Church. There is not much of the old " No Popery"
style, once so dear to Protestant preachers. Perhaps this may explain
the intellectual poverty of the homiletical portion, for it used to be
said of most Protestant preachers that unless they denounced the Pope
they would have nothing to say. Still the old feeling must find
expression, be it ever so feeble. Catholic commentators are called
Popish writers. One homilist, dpropos of Saul's kingship, exclaims —

What a calamity it has been to the Latin Church to have an alleged
vicar of Christ on earth ! The arrangement quite falls in with the craving
for a spiritual ruler who may be seen, and the uneasiness of really
unspiritual men under the control of One who is invisible. So there is a
Popedom, which began indeed with good intentions and impulses, as did
the monarchy of Saul, but has long ago fallen under God's displeasure
through arrogance, and brought nothing but confusion and oppression
on Christendom. We are a hundred times better without such a vice-
gerent. Enough in the spiritual sphere that the Lord is king (1 Samuel,
p. 243).

But perhaps the most offensive thing to Catholics is the constant
iteration of the heresy of justification by faith only, in passages which
look as if they had been borrowed from the Tract Society. For
instance, —

The root of a Christian life is belief in a finished redemption ; not belief
that the doctrine is true, but trust in the fact as the one ground of hope.
Hast thou entered on God's call ; entered the ark ; trusted Christ ; none
else, nothing else ? Waitest thou for something in thyself ? Noah did
not think of fitness when told to enter. God calleth thse as unfit. Try
to believe ; make a real effort (Genesis, p. 147).

The Book of J oh : a Metrical Translation, with Introduction and Notes.
By H. J. Clarke, A.K.C. London : Hodder & Stoughton. 1880.

THIS is a devout and painstaking eff'ort to make the full beauty of
this divine poem more apparent to English readers. The
translation is made directly from the Hebrew, and the rhythmical parts

Notices of Boohs. 265

are set in blank verse. Whether this is any real advantage is doubt-
ful. In metrical translations, gain in rhythm is often compensated by
loss in accuracy. Nor is Mr. Clarke's blank verse very poetical. He
is too fond of long words and stilted phrases — e.g.^ " vociferate thy
plaint," " adumbrates," &c. The prose of the authorized version is
sometimes more poetical than Mr. Clarke's verse ; as for instance, in
the oft-quoted description of death, — " Where the wicked cease from
troubling and the weary are at rest," (ch. iii. v. 17) — rendered by
Mr. Clarke thus, — " The wicked there desist from raging, and the
weary rest." On the other hand it must be admitted that through the
help of modern scholarship a more intelligible rendering is given to
some of the obscurer passages. The work of the miner in the twenty-
eighth chapter is thus described, —

Thus man has put
An end to darkness, and extends his search
Far down to depths remote, in qaest of stone.
In gloom enshrouded and death's shade concealed.
Down from the region where abodes are found
He digs a shaft. Forgotten by the foot
That treads above them, there the miners swing :
Eemotc from men, they dangle to and fro.
From out the earth then comes forth sustenance (pp. 67, 68).

One great fault in Mr. Clarke's translation is that he spoils Job's
prophecy of the Bodily Resurrection by rendering the twenty-sixth
verse (ch.xix) " and, from my flesh released^ shall I see God." In a
note he defends himself, on the ground that the literal translation is
"from my flesh." Yet the context shows that this phrase, though
ambiguous in itself, must here mean " in my flesh," for it goes on to
speak of the eyes of his flesh. And as Dr. Pusey says, " unless he
had meant emphatically to assert that he should from his flesh behold
God after his body had been dissolved, the addition of ' from my
flesh ' had been not merely superfluous but misleading. For the
obvious meaning is * from out of my flesh,' as the versions show."*
Nor is it satisfactory to find that Mr. Clarke thinks that the author
was Hesron, the Ezrahite, in the time of Solomon, thus ignoring all
that Prof. Lee has done to prove the extreme antiquity of the book.

A Handbook to Political Questions of the Day. Being the Argu-
ments on Either Side. By Sidney C. Buxton. London:
J. Murray. 1880.

THE author has ranged under such headings as " Disestablish-
ment," "Compulsory Education," " Ballot," "Permissive Bill,"
the main arguments that have been advanced pro or con. By argu-
ment he understands what logicians call middle-term ; his book is, in
tact, a repertory of middle terms to which the statesman may refer
when composing his speech, or by help of which the student may see
at a glance the pith of the contention on either side, and thus more

* •• Lectures on Daniel," p. 509.

266 Notices of Boohs.

effectually form an estimate of the merits of the question. No opinion
is expressed on the merits of any question ; nothing is given but the
bare argument of advocate and opponent, evidently stated with the
utmost brevity ; a short introduction, giving statistical or historical
information necessary to a proper understanding of the topics, is all
the author allows himself in addition. There can be little doubt that
the book will be useful ; it will save much hurried searching through
past parliamentary and other speeches, and it supplies as much
explanatory matter as will perhaps just save a speaker, pressed for
time and forgetful or ignorant, from betraying in his speech either
ignorance or a bad memory. But the information is too scant to put
one mi courant on the questions it treats, and even the arguments are
most often stated so briedy that to see their full bearing on the point
requires special knowledge and trained habits of reasoning. A quota-
tion of one or two arguments, as they are here stated, will readily
and sufficiently acquaint the reader with the character of this
volume.

The proposal [to withdraw all religious teaching from Board Schools]
is supported on the grounds : — 1. (By some) that it is beyond the province
of the State to recognize any religious teaching. 2. (By others) that,
though the State may recognize religious teaching, it may not use the
nation's money in encouraging the teaching of that which part of the
nation objects to or disbelieves. 3. That the necessary religious teaching
can be given out of school hours, and in Sunday schools.

Some other reasons follow, and then the grounds are stated on which
the present permissive power of giving unsectarian religious teaching is
upheld. Three of these are given, chosen not consecutively but
cbiefly for their brevity.

b. That the State ought not to hold aloof from all recognition of
religious teaching.

6. That the religious scruples of all are protected by the Conscience
Clause.

7. That rehgious hatreds are softened by the system^ of bringing
children of different denominations under one common religious teaching.

The aim of the author, to be perfectly impartial in the statement of
opposite views, has apparently been kept in view throughout ; on this
scpre little fault can be found. But there is not, as has been said,
sufficient fulness of detail and explanation — only, in fact, enough to
make one conscious how extremely valuable a fuller " Handbook" on
the same lines would really be.

Since this notice was written we observe that a second, and now a
third, edition of this Handbook have been published, each containing an
addition of "subjects" that have successively risen into importance
— among those of the third edition being the '' three F's." There is
evidently a greater demand for such a book than the brief and unde-
veloped character of its contents would have led us to anticipate. At the
same time, if such a Handbook is to keep abreast of the pressing need
there should be at least a yearly edition.

Notices of Books, 267

A Bygone Oxford. By Francis Goldie, S.J. London : Burns and
Gates. Oxford : Thomas Shrimpton and Son. 1881.

TO many persons a period spent in Oxford has supplied all the remain-
der of their lives with, at least, a perception of what is elevated and
romantic, in which they might otherwise have been deficient. There
are, of course, those to whom their prospects in the schools, as there
are others to whom the sports of their age and of the place, are so
simply absorbing, that the noble objects by which they are surrounded
are passed by unheeded. But this must surely be a rare case, and, if
we may judge of the amount of the appetite by the amount of the
pabulum provided, interest in material Oxford has not been wanting
since the beginning of this century, and is now fairly at its height.
That in the regard paid to Oxford, as in all attempts at art apprecia-
tion by so inartistic a people as ourselves, there should be much
blundering, was to be expected. What with the neo-Classic and the
neo- Gothic, the Oxford of William of Wykeham and William of
Waynflete is sadly overlaid, and the literary expositors of Oxford
constrain themselves to speak with respect of such very dissimilar
structures as the venerable fame of St. Frideswide, the tower of
Magdalen, the spire of All Saints, the library of Oriel, the Taylor
building, and the University Museum. With some, Oxford is enveloped
in a sort of nebulous haze with a landscape fore-ground, and the
salient features of the place are dissolved into some such chance-
medley as the poet's mise-en-scene : —

A Gothic ruin and a Grecian house,
A talk of college and of ladies' rights,
A feudal knight in silken masquerade !

We have often pleased ourselves by fancying what form a work on
Catholic Oxford would assume — a work that should by its very nature
exclude the pedantry and mannerism with which the worshippers of
Laud on the one hand, and of Arnold on the other, have surrounded
the subject of this far-famed university, and that should moreover be
free from the dilly-dallying of the merely Picturesque school. It was
therefore with much interest that we met in a room in Oxford some
two years back the very persons who seemed best fitted for the exe-
cution of such a task, and the hope sprang up in our mind that the
desire we had long entertained was about to find its fulfilment. An
important instalment is presented in Father Goldie's work entitled
" A Bygone Oxford," which is full and satisfactory for the ground it
covers — the history and antiquities of the monastic foundations. Even
upon the theme of the existing establishments. Father Goldie's work
enters. St. Frideswide's is now Christ Church ; the Benedictine
Gloucester Hall, Worcester College; the Cistercian St. Bernard's,
St. John's College. Durham College, the feeder in Oxford of the great
northern monastery, as re-founded in Queen Mary's time by Sir Thomas
Pope, of Tittenhauger, under the name of Trinity, is a very interesting
link between the ancient and modern colleges, and as the first home of
Cardinal Newman in the university, has in the present century esta-

268 Notices of Books.

Wished a fresh title to fame. On the other hand, Osney Abbey, which
belonged — as did St. Frideswide's — to the Canons Regular, has utterly
perished ; so has Cistercian Eewley, to the indignation of good old
Dr. Johnson, as recorded by the faithful Boswell, who also witnessed
the displeasure of the Sage at the wreck of the cathedral and monas-
teries of St. Andrews. The great French Dominican, Lacordaire,
speaks finely of the preservation of the reliques of antiquity at Oxford.
But Father Goldie leads us, where we have often trod unbidden,
through sordid St, Ebbe's, to view the site of the Dominican
monastery, which, like its Franciscan neighbour, has altogether disap-
peared. We see that a contemporary twits Father Goldie with
bringing Henry the Eighth upon the stage as a modern Philistine.
So far is he from doing so, that the only comparisons he institutes are
with Herod and Nero, the ancient monarchs whom he resembled,
except, indeed, as he out-Heroded them in the number of his victims.
Father Goldie's work is an excellent one, and will, we hope, meet with
the success it deserves. One or two minor points we have noted for
correction. The stained glass window, with a figure of Bp. King, and
a representation of Osney, is not in the north but in the south aisle of
Christ Church. The " Thomas" in the last line of page 16 is a very
evident misprint for " William." It is awkwardly said on page 11,
that the Lady Chapel of Osney " was projected at the east end"
where '' projected" (simply) is the meaning. Father Goldie says in
his concluding sentence, that sorrow must come uppermost in the mind
of his readers. St. Augustine speaks in his Confessions of the worth-
lessness and mischief of theatrical representations that excite to sorrow
merely, and not to the relief of the suffering portrayed. But as the
disastrous spoliation and confiscation and destruction recorded by
Father Goldie really happened, we trust that his readers may be
stirred up to aid, by every means in their power, the cause of the
Church in Oxford, as the proper reparation for the outrages of the
kings and nobles, and consenting Commons, of former days. Thus it
shall not be said of them : " Non ... ad subveniendum provocatur
auditor, sed tantum ad dolendum incitatur."

Delia Vita di Antonio Rosmini-Serhati. Memorie di Francesco Paoli,
Ditta G. B. Paravia e Comp. Roma, Torino, &c. 1880.

A LIFE of the eminent servant of God and great genius, Father
Antonio Rosmini, was absolutely required. We have one
here, at last, though it is still in a foreign idiom. Rosmini was
a man who feared God alone, and who lived at a time when there was
much to stir up the wrath of an honest heart in the land of his birth.
He has spoken many bold and remarkable words, and it is no wonder
if he, and his philosophy, and his Institute, have had much to contend
against. This Life, and the important and elaborate work " Degli
Universale secondo la teoria Rosminiana," by Bishop Ferre, of
which we have received three volumes, and an interesting volume of
*' Conferenze sui doveri ecclesiastici," by the founder himself (Speirani

Notices of Books. 269

e figli, Torino, 1880), will make it more easy to estimate his work,
his character, aud his teaching. To this we hope to return at no
distant date. Meanwhile the Life before us is modestly and elegantly
written, is very complete, and very well put together. We hope it
may find a translator.

The Lusiad of Camoens. Translated into English Spenserian Verse
by Robert Ffrench Duff. Lisbon : Lewtas. London : Chatto
and Windus. 1880.

MR. FFRENCH DUFF'S translation was begun, he tells us, when
he was " fast approaching his seventieth year " as a solace and
occupation in hours of leisure from business. Under these singular
circumstances it is impossible not to admire the writer's literary taste
and perseverance, and it is difficult not to speak leniently of short-
comings in a work thus accomplished. If we state that Mr. Ffrench
Duff'a translation has little chance of superseding in public estimation
that of Mr. Aubertin, or even that of Mr. Mickle, we are encouraged
to be thus outspoken by the writer's own courageous assertion :
" Should my labours meet with a cold reception from the public (and
I am very far from entertaining any great expectation), I shall be amply
rewarded and consoled by the pleasure which they have afforded me."
The Spenserian form of verse is what distinguishes this translation of the
" Lusiad ;" but it appears to us that just because of the choice of this
form, the translation is not so successful as it might otherwise have
been. The unity of the stanza has apparently led the writer into
frequent verbiage and weakening prolixity, whilst a want of care
about grammatical construction often adds obscurity thereto. There
are frequent changes of nominative and of tense, with the object
doubtless of securing rhymes, but often to the detriment of clearness.
A short extract will afford one example of where Mr. Ffrench Duff,
who professes to be more literal in his translation than was Mr.
Mickle, has failed to bring out the image (an image taken from the
favourite bull-fight) of the original with nearly Mickle's success. But
the real poetic fire, the terseness and vigour of the latter translator
more than compensate for the drawback that he is not very faithful.
We set his translation in juxta-position rather than any other,
because it is likely long and deservedly to remain the popular one.
His additions, too, are no great offence, when they are distinguished,
as they are in the excellent edition in Bohn's library, by being set in
itaUcs.

So when a joyful lover, from the ring

All stained with blood, espies a lovely dame
To whom his ardent hopes and wishes cling,

And the rage of the bull has for his aim

With runs, signs, jumps and shouting to inflame ;
At bay, the furious brute looks proudly round,

With eyelids closed by wrath, and quivering frame,
He clears the space, at one tremendous bound,
His foe he wounds, gores, slays and tramples on the ground.

270 Kotices of Books*

The gunners in the boats now open fire

With steady aim from all their dreadful guns,
The leaden bullets scatter ruin dire,

The cannon's loud report rebounds, and stuns ;

Throughout the Moorish ranks cold terror runs,
And chills the blood, for well they know the die

Is cast for all, but each the danger shuns ;
From certain death the men in ambush fly
Whilst those who show themselves remain to fight and die.

(Duff's Translation, Canto I., p. 32.)

Thus, when to gain his beauteous charmer's smile,

The youthful lover dares the bloody toil,

Before the nodding bull's stern front he stands,

He leaps, he wheels, he shouts, and waves his hands :

The lordly brute disdains the stripling's rage,

His nostrils smoke, and, eager to engage.

His horned brows he levels with the ground,

And shuts his flaming eyes, and wheeling round

With dreadful bellowing rushes on the foe,

And lays the boastful gaudy champion low.

Thus to the sight the sons of Lusus sprung.

Nor slow to fall their ample vengeance hung :

With sudden roar the carabines resound.

And bursting echoes from the hills rebound ;

The lead flies hissing through the trembling air.

And death's fell dsemons through the flashes glare, &c.

(Mickle's Translation, Book I. p. 23. Edit. Bell & Sons, 1877.)

Politicians of To-day ; a Series of Personal Sketches. By T. Wemyss
Reid. In Two Volumes. London : Griffith & Farran. 1880.

THESE Sketches are somewhat too sketchy for the dignity of a two-
volume book. They were written originally for the columns of
a provincial newspaper, to supply that " personal " information that
curiosity now so urgently asks about great or notorious people ; and
this fact explains the thinness of style. Mr. Reid professes that he
writes as a Liberal, but with an endeavour *' to be just to all, and
ungenerous to none." This is no doubt the case ; but in such chatty
sketches as these, where there is a large quantity of sentiment and
rhetoric, and comparatively little acute criticism or fact, and the latter
entirely as seen from a special point of view, there is as much that
we dissent from as that we agree with. But of the writer's honesty '
and desire to be fair we have proof enough. His sketch of Prince
Bismarck is far more reserved than that of M. Gambetta. the latter
being, indeed, a picture of eflTulgent brightness, in which the recog-
nition of errors is only as the recognition of spots on the sun. Of
course the sketches of Mr. Gladstone and Lord Beaconsfield stand in
sharp contrast, but even the latter is measured and fair in comparison
with such " liberal " estimates as the biography by Mr. T. P. O'Connor.
On what principle of selection the subjects of these sketches have
been chosen is not apparent. They contain the Prince of Wales,

Kotices of Books. 271

" Punch," and " The Speaker " of the House, and a score of English
politicians, from the Prime Minister down to such men as Mr. Edward
Jenkins and Mr. Parnell ; but of notable foreign names we have only
Gambetta, Bismarck, and GortschakofF. In the sketch of Mr. Parnell
there is an estimate of Obstructionism that we have not seen before,
and our readers will doubtless forgive the length of the extract. Mr.
Reid wrote, it should be remembered, in October, 1879, but even
then he regarded " systematic obstruction as one of the gravest of all
offences," warned Mr. Parnell that his is " a game at which two can
play," and severely censured his extra-Parliamentary utterances.

It must be something of a shock to the stranger who enters the House
of Commons imbued with these ideas, to lind that these redoubtable
Obstructives, in outward manner and appearance, do not differ very
greatly from their most respectable colleagues on the Conservative
benches. They are not armed either with the national shillelagh or the
transatlantic revolver ; they do not wear their hats akimbo, like some
worthy gentlemen on the Ministerial side of the House ; and if you have
occasion to speak to them, you need not tremble for your safety. There
is not one among them who will not give you a very civil answer to any
legitimate inquiry you may address to him. The stranger therefore, need
not feel nervous if fortune should bring him into close proximity to Mr.
Parnell or Mr. O'Donnell. They are by no means so black as they have
been painted. They may bark, it is true, but they never bite — except in a
strictly Parliamentary or Pickwickian fashion. Having got rid of his fears
on this point, the visitor, whose mind has been filled with pictures derived
from the London correspondence of Tory newspapers, probably finds
himself greatly bewildered by what he sees and hears during a debate.
It is an Obstructive debate, and to-morrow morning it will be described
in the Parliamentary reports as "Another Scene," whilst able editors
and indignant descriptive writers in the Reporters' Gallery will enlarge
upon the enormity of the conduct of Messrs. Parnell and Co. Yet this
is what the intelligent stranger actually sees of the "scene" in question : —
A gentleman rises from his seat below the gangway on the Opposition
side of the House, and in mild and measured accents, slightly flavoured
with the suspicion of a brogue, calls attention to an undoubted defect in a
clause of the Bill under discussion. It is, let us suppose, a measure
affecting the colonies. " Will the Right Hon. Baronet, Her Majesty's
Secretary of State for the Colonies, kindly explain to me the meaning
of this clause, which appears to be drawn, in very vague and ambiguous
language ?" There is nothing in this simple question that seems calcu-
lated to provoke anybody to anger; yet no sooner has it fallen from the
lips of the speaker, than a prolonged shout of " Oh !" rises from a
hundred throats on the Tory side of the House. Amid this shout, a tall
gentleman rises from the Treasury Bench, and in a very testy, if not
positively insulting, fashion, tells his interrogator that he cannot answer
nis question. His manner, if not his words, conveys the idea that none
but a fool could have put such an inquiry, and that it is beneath the
dignity of a Minister to pay any attention to it. There is a roar of cheer-
ing from the Conservative side, amidst which the Colonial Secretary
drops into his seat with a supercilious smile upon his face. The
(beers change into howls when the gentleman who asked the question
.^^ets up agam. For a few moments the disorder is so great that he
cannot be heard. "Order, order!" cries the Chairman, in measured
tones ; and there is a slight diminution in the noise, during which the

27^ Notices of Books.

Obstructionist— for this bland, gentlemanly personage positively belongs
to that terrible body — manages to utter a single sentence. " Order,
order !" again cries the Chairman, and he follows up the words by rising
to his feet. Instantly, according to the rules of the House, the person
who is speaking must sit down and wait the presidential deliverance.
"I must point out to the hon. Member," says Mr. Raikes, in his most
dignified manner, *' that he is not in order in referring to a question
which is not at this moment before the Committee." Loud Ministerial
cheering greets' this declaration. Again the Obstructionist rises, and

essays to speak. " But, sir " he says, and then such a storm of jibes,

yells, and groans burst forth from the crowded benches opposite to him,
that there is no possibility of the rest of his sentence being heard. " Sir,
I rise to order," cries a Tory, who springs to his feet evidently in a state
of suppressed fury, and again the unfortunate Obstructive has to sit
down. " I wish to know, sir," pursues the new comer, " whether the
hon. gentleman has accepted your ruling, sir ?" And again the war-cry
goes forth from the Conservative side. ]^ow, however, it is caught up
by answering cheers from the Home Rulers. Amid the tumult, the
Obstructive once more rises. " Sir, I am not aware that I have disputed

yDur ruling, but I wish to observe " It is all in vain. Yells of "With--

draw, withdraw," ring through the House. The unfortunate speaker
grows red in the face, and at last shouts out a demand to know whether
he may not be allowed to finish his sentence. " No !" comes in a sten-
torian voice from a seat immediately behind the Ministerial bench.
Then up springs another Obstructive, who has been infected by the
gen